Harry Potter, Unbreakable
by SAMarcus
Summary: A different take on Light and Dark. Starts out with canon plus a new character, moves off to a new direction. Rating is for language, violence, and future sexual situations. Will eventually be HP/HG, maybe GD and/or GW, others, with OC with different pairings/trios. Oh, standard disclaimer inserted here: I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does. Get over it.
1. Chance Encounters

August 29, 2127

It was cold and damp, like usual in England, but today seemed especially so as it often did when one of the world's greats, one of its heroes, had passed. It was getting late; the services were over, the well-wishers, hangers-on, politicians, family, friends, both real and imagined, some enemies, and of course, the press were long gone from the site. All save one reporter, young and ambitious, who stayed to see if anything else would happen. She knew there was always someone; some person who didn't like the crowds that would show up after it was all said and done. Her patience was well rewarded as she noticed a single elderly man sitting in the chairs lined before the great mausoleum in which the greatest hero in recent history was now laid to rest, Harry Potter.

The old man sat for some time before struggling to his feet and walking with great assistance from his cane towards the altar stone that lay in front of the monument. He laid his hands on the stone and looked up at the carved relief of Lord Potter's face.

A sad smile then a pat on the stone before he suddenly spoke, "Is there something I can do for you young lady?"

The woman started. How had he known? She was concealed behind powerful charms; ones used by her family of reporters and investigators to find the truth and ferret out details. Dropping the glamour, she walked over to the man, who had by then sat back down in a chair in the front row.

"I was just waiting for someone," she said nervously.

He smiled indulgently at her, his eyes a bright, deep blue that belied his obvious age.

"I have children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, young lady. I have fought terrible foes and been hounded by determined enemies. I knew you were there all along and I know you are not just waiting for anyone in particular. What is your name, girl?"

Knowing she was not fooling this old codger, she decided to drop the charade and just be out with it.

"I'm Pricilla Skeeter. I'm a reporter and I was just doing some last minute coverage of the funeral and decided to stay and see if anyone else more interesting stopped by."

"More interesting than the Minister? Or all the flunkies of various countries and sappy fan-girls? Hah! Hmmm. Skeeter. Any relation to a Rita Skeeter?"

"My great grandmother, sir. May I ask your name and why you are here so late?"

"Oh, dear me, where are my manners." The old man seemed a bit flustered for a moment.

Before he could reply himself, a house elf, strangely dressed in what looked to be a cross between a Hollywood bouncer and an old Victorian style butler's outfits, faded into view.

"Dis be da Lord Staros Aniken Marcus, Earl of Moneda and Foula, Knight of the Garter, Order of Merlin Second and Third Class…" the elf started. Pricilla was suddenly a bit afraid. This was Harry Potter's most hated rival and the greatest villain to walk Britain since Voldemort!

"Enough, Carcerous. How many times do I have to tell you? I am not the earl anymore. I passed that title on to my grandson seven years ago." Despite the severity of the old man's tone, Pricilla got the impression this was a normal thing between elf and master, and likely on going until the old man died.

"Anyway," the Lord Staros continued, "I doubt she needs the full gamut of awards and nonsense hung around my neck over the years. Most of it was utter crap. As to why I am here, madam, Mr. Potter was my oldest and dearest friend. We spent a our school days together, did a lot of things over the intervening years, and now that he is gone to join his ladies, I imagine I shall be soon as well. I waited until after all the hubbub to ask them all to wait for me just a little longer before we go off in search of our next 'Great Adventure' as a certain old goat used to call it."

Pricilla was a bit startled by this statement. She asked, "Your friend? The two of you have been the bitterest enemies for the last hundred years! Your battles in and out of the Wizengamot are legendary! How can you call yourself friends?"

The old man chuckled a bit and smiled. Pricilla was a bit worried by that smile. It promised neither warmth nor kindness.

"Do not worry, my dear. I shall not harm you. You just brought up some dear memories of other arguments we had before. As to our friendship, well, Sun Tzu once said to keep friends close and enemies closer. Mr. Potter and I were much more than we appeared in public. We have a history that would shock most people and cause a great many others to rant in denial or kill themselves in despair. But I suppose that with him gone and me probably soon following, the world can know at least some of the truth."

"Wait. Was Harry Potter your secret lover or something? Is this some kind of twisted half-romance, half-unrequited love story?"

Staros looked at the woman for a few seconds as what she said sank into his brain. The response was not exactly what she was prepared for.

"Bwah hah HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH…" began a spine breaking, full belly laugh from the twisted old man. As tears started to form at the corners of his eyes and he clutched his sides, his elf sidled over appearing most distressed.

"Lord Staros, dis not bein' good fer yer heart. You be needin' t'be calm, sir."

Having laughed himself to near asphyxia, Staros waved the elf back while trying to regain control of himself. Pricilla looked a bit worried, both for the old man's health and for what the laugh might mean.

"Yes, HA, yes… leave me be, ha ha… oh gods, heh… why does everyone always jump on that bandwagon even after all these years? Hah… I once had someone in our fifth year who was convinced that Harry and Draco were secretly in love as the reason behind their school fights."

"Draco?" asked Pricilla, wracking her brain to remember who that might be in connection to Harry Potter. "Oh, Lord Draco Malfoy. Didn't he end up as the Head of Education back in 2020 or something?"

"Yes, that Draco. Bit of a prick, but decent enough fellow once you got past his pretentious, overblown ego. Anyway, back on topic. Let's get together tomorrow at my home. I'll give you something that I can assure you, will make your career for the next several decades."

"OK, how's ten tomorrow morning sound?"

"Just wonderful," Staros said. "Opportunity awaits, my dear. See you then." With that, the old man got up and leaning heavily upon his cane, apparated away, his elf fading away immediately after.

The following morning, Pricilla had informed her editor of the barest of tidbits revealed the day before and gained his enthusiastic authorization to spend an extended period of time interviewing the little known, but very publicly Dark, Lord Staros. The hints about secret ties to Lord Potter, recently deceased, only made it that much more intriguing.

Apparating to the location provided to her the day before, Pricilla was surprised to see a rather plain looking, although obviously Victorian styled, three story home set on a small hill overlooking a large town. Just looking around, she couldn't tell if it was Sutton or Poole, Watford or Crawley, or any of a dozen other smaller communities. She guessed she was in a southern part of Britain by the warmer air, but none of the by-ways or larger streets stuck out as being familiar.

Shrugging it off as being unfamiliar with muggle towns, she turned back to the gate and touched the latch. It opened of its own accord as she did so, which she took as a sign of welcome. Walking up towards the house, she sketched out a few details into her notebook about the appearance and "feel" of the home. Hardly could she describe it as being the lair of an evil Dark Lord, but more like a retirement home for a well to do businessman or one of the pureblood families.

As she reached the door, the elf from the previous day, 'Carcerous, wasn't it?' faded into view. Nodding once at her, he opened the door to the home and bowed her through. The main foyer was simple in design, with rich walnut paneling and a staircase that obviously led to the family living areas.

"We be goin' dis way, Missus Skeeter," said Carcerous, gesturing towards a door on the left. "Da Master be seein' you in hees front study."

Smiling politely at the aged elf, Pricilla followed him down a short hall past a few other doors, all shut of course, to a largish oak door set into a stone wall. Frowning slightly, Pricilla couldn't seem to remember there being any masonry apparent from the exterior. Was she still in the same building? Or was it so heavily disguised that she simply couldn't see the stonework?

Chuckling as if guessing her thoughts, the elf simply opened the door and bowed her through. Pricilla stepped into the room and realized there was definitely no way she was in the same building as the window opposite the door was enormous, spanning a good twenty feet or so, and showed a view that could only be described as tropical. Then she realized that the view meant nothing in the magical world, she could be in closet of the Victorian home that was bespelled to be larger and show this vista.

"Ah, Ms. Skeeter, please, come in and have a seat. Care for some melon?" asked Staros, holding a small tray out towards her.

"No, thank you, milord," she replied, seating herself in the overstuffed chair next to his own and pulling out her memory crystal and notepad. She set the crystal down onto the small table between them while she prepared her notepad for the interview.

Putting down the tray, Staros picked up the crystal. Holding it up to the light, he seemed to be appraising its quality before nodding once and placing back where he had picked it from.

"I remember a time when those were a dream. Harry and I grew tired of the issues with mundane technology and the influences magic could have on it when we set out to create those. I believe we started a whole new form of research after we marketed the first few. The Department of Mysteries is still rather upset about the whole deal I believe. Pensieves were too damned bulky and a pain to use, often limited in their ability to portray truth since it was still a matter of an individual's perception. And mundane recorders had the unfortunate weakness of being magically manipulable. But, that is a different story than the one you are here for."

Pricilla nodded to the old man across from her, her reporter enthusiasm showing rather brightly in her eyes. If this panned out, she would be set for life, even better than her great grandmother.

Staros picked up a large tome that Pricilla hadn't seen before, sitting as it was on the opposite side of Staros' chair. Handing it to her he said, "This is the best part. This is the collective diary of myself and one Harry James Potter. Our plots, our correspondence, our wild ideas, even our tears and regrets when things went south. Harry had the other one, but in accordance with his will, certain possessions like this book's twin were burned and the ashes scattered.

"I have altered the protections we placed on it to include you into the secret of its contents. Anyone else will either ignore the book, get a blinding headache from it, or run afoul its defenses if they pry too hard. I have also changed it so that it will reveal only a single decade of our notes at a time, to be spaced out in one and two year increments."

Holding up his hand at her about to be voiced protest, he smiled at her. "You would like it all at once, I know. But, with it being forcibly spaced, I am making sure that you are set up rather prettily to write a new expose on various topics as time wears on. This protects certain people from recriminations and will allow the world to digest what it reads before getting the next whammy."

"OK, I understand that now," Pricilla said, knowing there was little she could do about it. Knowing Lord Potter's affinity with warding and the rumors about the Dark enchantments Lord Staros was supposedly able to create, she wouldn't try breaking the spells on the tome.

"Anyway, let's start with the beginning. A little after Harry was born, so too was I. The usual thing for women and children throughout time. But there were some catches. After all, Harry was the target of self-styled Lord Voldemort while my family was in exile at the time. An exile that was just ending…"


	2. Chance Meetings

October 6, 1980

An elderly lady of regal bearing sat upon a rather ostentatious chair, just shy of being a throne really, in a rather large, mostly empty, richly appointed room in the far East wing of her manor home. It was in this room that she, Elizabeth II, Queen of England, liked to conduct any business with England's "other half," the half that few knew existed and was often so bizarrely backwards that only with the assistance of one of the royal historians could she understand the slightest of how they acted or what they said. The Royal Family had moved on with the rest of the world at large with a majority of its attitudes and actions. Certain traditions were upheld as expected, but others, like unwilling contractual marriage, the inability of a woman to hold a Lord's office, and other like discriminations had for the most part been eliminated, both in England and the vast majority of the civilized world.

She sighed, deep in thought about the meeting that would soon take place, remembering the time when she sat in attendance to her father while he too sat in this very room, with the same crown and sword on the table next to her now and waited for what was then an appointed proxy of the family that was now coming to swear themselves to the Crown's service.

'Three hundred years,' she thought. 'They have upheld the familial obligations all this time and never once asked for a reduction in the punishment handed down by my forefathers. Banished for three hundred years and now they are allowed back and not only do they come to claim their proper seat, but also swear in the next Lord of the House. I wonder how much is coincidence and how much is their often strange planning?'

"Madame, Mr. Marcus has arrived for his appointment. Shall I show him in?" asked a thin man who had entered unnoticed while she was deep in thought, only speaking when she appeared to have become aware of her surroundings again, as he always did.

"Thank you Cullen, you may show him in."

"As you wish, ma'am," Cullen bowed, pulled open the door and gestured the person waiting inside. "Mr. Marcus, Your Majesty, his daughter in-law Analais, and her new born son, Staros."

"Thank you Cullen, you may leave for now." Cullen bowed again and pulled the door shut behind him, knowing full well the protections offered to the Queen in this room were far more than soldiers or butlers could ever bring.

"Well Mr. Marcus, I have not seen you since the ball in France back in 1972. How are things in the Colonies?" asked the Queen as she gestured for them to sit in the chairs near her.

"Well, Your Majesty, quite well, thank you," said the rather small man as he sat down with some effort. "She was not in attendance then, but may I present my daughter in-law, Analais d'Prix Marcus and my grandson, Staros."

The woman knelt rather gracefully considering that she carried a small infant. "Your Majesty."

"While I appreciate the formality, Mrs. Marcus, please, you have a child in your arms and I am far too old to worry about such things anymore. Please rise and give me a good look at your son." Said the Queen, laughing lightly.

"As you wish, Your Majesty. This is Staros, born just this last week, September twenty-ninth." Analais said as she stood back up and leaned forward a bit to show off her small bundle, still asleep.

"They are always such a wonder to behold at this age. Innocent, beautiful, and so full of peace. It has been a while since I held a child of my family. So, Mr. Marcus, your familial banishment ended yesterday and I assume you are here to re-swear your allegiance to the Crown and take up the Lordship of your family that has laid dormant these many years?"

"Yes and no, Your Majesty. While we are here to swear in a new Lord, I shall not be taking up the title for my family. I am here to swear in proxy for my grandson who shall be the next Earl of Moneda and Lord Foula. I have no interest in returning after so long a time in exile. My home is in California, I was born there and I shall most likely die there."

A look of calculated interest on her face, the Queen said "What of your son, Edwin?"

"He has taken over our family's business ventures and will continue as the next commerce lord of our little financial empire, Your Majesty. Staros will not inherit that responsibility, focusing instead on his place here, serving the crown as did our ancestors. His brothers have also begun taking up their respective responsibilities in Japan and Russia."

"I see. Well, shall we get down to it then? I understand we both have limited time for this venture as I am to make an appearance this evening and you must have business to attend to regarding the boy."

"Aye, Your Majesty. Combined with the time differences, I am sure Analais would like to lie back down soon."

Queen Elizabeth picked up the crown from the small table, and placed it on her head. Few in England had ever seen this particular crown and fewer still knew that the one residing in the Tower was not the actual part of the Crown Jewel set, but a very expensive replica, but not exactly a fake either, simply not endowed with the "enhancements" of the true Crown. As she placed it, a slight glow surrounded her and most particularly the Crown itself.

"Kneel."

Mr. Marcus and Analais both knelt down before the Queen and bowed their heads. Analais pulled the cover back from Staros' head so that his upper body was bared.

Picking up the sword that had lain next to the Crown, Queen Elizabeth also stood and approached the two.

"I, Astrix Daniel Marcus of the House of Marcus, Earl in absentia of Moneda and Foula, do hereby renounce my titles and swear my grandson, Staros Aniken Marcus of the House of Marcus, to the Majesty of Queen Elizabeth II, her heirs, and their heirs, our lives to defend the Honor of the Crown, our hearts the loyalty of the Land, our magic to will of Her Majesty's People. Upon my life and my magic, he is blood of my blood and will carry the honor and will of our family, so be it!"

The Queen looked down at the man who had just spoken, raised the sword she held and laid it gently upon his head. On contact, a slight glow enveloped the end of the sword and cast a small halo about the man's head.

"We accept your renunciation and also accept your grandson as the new Earl of Moneda and Lord Foula. He is granted the privilege of the lands your family once held in trust for the Crown. We accept your oath of his blood and will accept his upon his turning the age of 10 as it was before. Upon Our magic and Our lives, so may it be!" As the Queen said this, she moved the sword from the man to the small child and very gently laid the tip upon his head. The glow from the sword seemed to diminish slightly then brighten as the oath was completed. With a bright flash, everyone present knew the oaths were accepted and could feel the magic take hold and transfer the Lordship to the small child in his mother's arms.

"Rise, Mr. Marcus, Lady Analais. Take Our new Lord back to his bed and get some rest yourselves," said the Queen as she sat back down and replaced the sword upon the table. "We don't involve Ourselves much in the magical world as I am sure you already know. As such, I expect you to keep us apprised of any activities that might interest us."

"Of course, Your Majesty. And thank you for this. Do you have a liaison in mind for keeping in touch? I doubt you want the usual British wizard communications methods flying in at whatever hours of the day or night."

"Yes, yes, they are still using owls are they not? Dreadfully out of date. The few Lords who have sworn to the Crown and other contacts we maintain are all pitifully unaware of how things are moving in the mundane world. See Cullen on the way out and he will give you the name of our liaison with magical England. I must see to the preparations for my appointment this evening. Good day to you, and good luck."

"Your Majesty," Mr. Marcus bowed while Analais curtsied, backed up the requisite three steps before turning and letting themselves out the door they had entered. The man they had met earlier handed Mr. Marcus a large envelope and explained the contents as being the details of their contacts with magical England as well as certain instructions the Queen had wished to give them regarding the direction She felt things needed to go in the future.

In a room far away from the events in Buckingham, a large, ornate wooden chair shifted from its position in the back ranks of several other chairs to another spot in between two other similar chairs. The rows of chairs involved all moved slightly to properly accommodate their long exiled brother, some in an almost grudging manner, others easily, as if in welcome. No one was present; no one witnessed the chair's movement. People coming in at a later date and time briefly wondered about it, but as such things had happened a few times before, it was largely ignored by all. The ones who paid the most attention were those who sat next to the empty seat, those who had previously been neighbors now forced to lean over the space to converse as they had before. An inconvenience to be sure, but again, largely ignored.


	3. Chance Returns

June 7, 1991

Nearly eleven years later, while most of the magical children of England were receiving their letters on invitation to Hogwarts, another child was stepping off a private plane that had just landed at Heathrow Airport. Wearing what passed for a casual version of a formal suit, meaning no tie, a light jacket, and wearing what could only be described as a riding cloak, he walked down the steps to the waiting car. With his usual ability to pick up small things around him, he noticed the odd look a couple of the security personnel gave him and the cloak he wore.

While totally out of fashion about two centuries ago in America, he was quite taken with the look that could only be achieved with a cloak and took to wearing one after seeing several movie actors one day that were doing some medieval number. His parents had tried to push the fascination off as a passing phase, he was only seven at the time, but as time went on, it became obvious that it was to become his own unique look. As such, he was by now quite used to the looks, and sometimes downright rude stares, he received.

Stepping past the one security guard, he said "You know, it's not much different from a long coat," and stepped into the car, enjoying the startled look on the man's face as he realized that he'd been staring. As the door closed, the boy sighed and turned to the small figure next to him that the guards had taken no notice of.

"Is it always going to be this damp, Carcerous?"

Carcerous, the short and very obviously not human figure, was dressed in a manner similar to a sort-of butler sort-of high class bodyguard. He looked over at the boy who, at almost eleven, was only slightly taller than himself and said, "You be seein' da weather signs, Master Staros. Dey be tellin' ya da same ting all de time. England be damp and rainy lotsa de time."

Another sigh, "Yes Carcerous, you're right. I think I almost hate Grandfather right now, knowing he'll be warm and happy back home while I get this LOVELY locale to school in."

"Now Master, donna be sayin' such tings. We both be knowin' dis was t'happen for a long time."

"Yes, yes. Now I suppose we should call home and let dad know we've arrived."

Picking up the in car cell phone, Staros dialed the number to his father's phone in Los Angeles. A few rings later and a familiar voice said, "Hello son, I trust you've landed and the flight was without incident?"

"Yes, dad, although the food wasn't what we requested. Something about a recall on the olives or some such. They had a nice substitute though, and one of the stewardesses managed to cobble me together a pizza from what they brought on board. She's rather good at it. Name's Diane Summers, you should give her a raise."

His father chuckled a bit at that, "I'll look into it, son. Maybe she's taking some culinary classes or something. I'll let her know you liked her pizza. Now, I had some of the family elves transferred temporarily to the old estate and despite all efforts, the grounds are a bit of a mess. You're going to need to take into service your own people and get the manor back up to par. We got all the major parts down, structural issues and the like, but the rest is up to you as part of your Lordship. You'll learn it all the way your ancestors did, by getting down into the thick of it."

"We covered all that before I left, dad. I'll let you know if I need anything from you or grandpa. Which elves did you send? Litzie? She's awesome with decorations."

"No, but I'll see if she can be spared for a bit when you're ready for that. In the meantime, I've sent Quak, Rif, and Tawny to take care of the manor while you look into your own service. Quak's a bit young, but he's learning to do things proper. Have Carcerous keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't go overboard with things. Also, we didn't have it finalized before your flight took off, but you'll be staying at the Marriot in London, the Lazarus suite. It's a mixed suite so things should be fine for you there."

"Thanks, dad. I'll have Carcerous pop over later and take things in hand. I'll look over the estate in a couple days after I get a bit used to the time shift. Gonna take a nap now 'til we get to the hotel. Then I'll see what opportunities pop up. Talk to ya later. Bye."

"Bye, Staros. Keep in touch."

After hanging up, Staros stared at the phone for a few minutes before sighing in resignation and picking it back up to dial another number. A few rings and a click later, he punched in a long string of digits and waited. After a few more moments, a single bell toned in his ear.

"The hall of shadows, Renninger," Staros said flatly.

After a couple more silent moments, a voice responded, "Lord Staros, always a pleasure. I trust your flight was pleasant?"

"Yes, Keeper, it was nice enough. I called to see if you or granddad had any additional information to pass on. Since the meeting with the Queen in January, I haven't heard much from either of you. I'm starting to wonder if this is all some elaborate joke."

A dry, humorless chuckle answered him. "No, Lord Staros, this is as real as it gets. We have forwarded the important files on those people you might meet or whom we wish you to interact with to your suite. There will be a small box, blood warded to yourself and Carcerous so don't open it without him present. The Queen has expressed Her desire that things start smoothly and with as few incidents as possible until we get everything into place."

"She knows this will take some time, right? I might be the third most powerfully backed kid on the planet, but I'm still a kid. The briefing last week about the state of magical Britain made me wonder if these people are sane or not. The crap Jem had to deal with in Russia seemed tame compared to this idiocy. At least Daniel only has normal warlords with pretty straightforward issues to deal with in Asia. Why do I get the nut balls?"

"I have already explained the signs the Oracles have given. You must do what is necessary for us to survive what comes. I feel in my bones I may be forced to live and see it."

Staros sighed, knowing Keeper was most likely right. He still didn't have to like it.

"What are my sanctions?"

"For now, nothing. Of course, if you feel you must act in any way, you are free to do so. Britain, and later Europe, will be your domain. Take what steps you feel are needed to secure things according to the Legacy. Otherwise, just find some allies and your Nemesis, like we all do."

"I will speak to you again another time then," said Staros, hanging up. Keeper never cared for the goodbye nonsense. But then, the old man was several cards shy of a full deck.

Staros settled the phone back in the receiver and leaned back for the short trip to the hotel. Carcerous looked over and noticed Staros had drifted into his occlumency trance, a good thing since the change in time zones could get rough on him otherwise. Taking this as a free moment, he popped quietly over to the manor to look over the grounds and get the other elves to work.

The manor appeared to be all right, structurally. The old furniture that had previously resided there was not. Much of it had succumbed to age and what hadn't, was simply hideous beyond belief. Well, maybe not beyond belief, it was three hundred years out of fashion, meaning it would have been fine circa 1960. Now though, it simply needed to go.

New things needed to be ordered, things more comfortable than horsehair and goatskins. Detailing the cleaning duties to the new elves, Carcerous instructed them to simply check the structure, clean out the old furniture, find anything remotely useful and collect it into one of the larger storage rooms for later looking over by the new Lord, and begin work on getting the grounds back into something decent. While magic could do many things quite miraculously, it couldn't change a tree from badly twisted and un-pruned into a nicely trimmed and sculpted piece of estate property without time. Living things simply resisted that much drastic alteration of their forms, at least, while still staying alive.

Popping back, Carcerous saw his master still in a trance and the car was pulling into the hotel's main entrance area. "Master Staros, it be time to wake up."

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Thank you, Carcerous." Staros stretched and looked out the car window at the hotel that would be his home for the next several months most likely. At least until he got the manor into some semblance of livability.

Staros spent the next day asleep for the most part, readjusting his body's inner clock to the new location on the globe. The following day, he arose, ate what he was told consisted of a typical English breakfast, wondered how every Englishman didn't have major heart disease, and decided it was time to visit the manor. Some hours later he had toured the manor's main areas, looked through a bunch of the bric-a-brac left over from the last time his family actually lived here, and even got out to look over the grounds a bit. While not overly impressed with the progress made on the grounds, he was also aware that there were limits to how much could be done in so short a time. Then a thought occurred to him.

"Carcerous, what about the tower at Foula?"

Carcerous sighed. Master's father had told him this would come up at some point. He had been told that it was not going to be pretty but that he should not worry himself over the issue.

"Master Staros, sir. Master's fadder said you might be wantin' t'know about de tower. I bein' told ta give Master dis if'n he asks about't." With that, Carcerous pulled a bound folder from his pocket and expanded it back to its original size. "Master not bein' happy wit dis."

With a frown, Staros wondered what he meant by that and took the offered folder. Opening it, he flipped through the first several pages detailing the small, barely habitable islands that consisted of the Lordship of Foula's lands. This island measuring such a such, that island measuring this, and finally the last island, just large enough to actually build something, though exactly WHY was a bit beyond him seeing as it was out in the North Sea and suffered vicious weather patterns, rough seas, and was about as inviting as a bullet to the groin. Finally landing on the current state of the tower, his eyes tightened and the knuckles of his hand turned a bit white.

"The Ministry of Magic has turned MY tower into a PRISON? The place was a horrible location that I didn't exactly plan on summering at, but who, EXACTLY, gave them permission to use my property?"

"Master, dat be no one. Da Ministry be decidin' to be usin' da tower wit'out any agreements back in 1783 accordin' to Master's fadder. Wit no one bein' here to tell dem No, dey just be movin' in an' settin' up shop"

With a deep breath, Staros calmed himself. "We'll be seeing to that issue later. For now, let's get back to the hotel and go over what nonsense I need to pick up before attending school week after next."

"Yes, Master Staros."


	4. Chance Rolls

The next several days were spent reading over the course requirements for Hogwarts, continuing his extra exercises, visiting a few tourist spots in London, and generally settling in at the suite. Choosing one day more than a week before school started, Staros decided to visit the oddly named Diagon Alley in person to pick up his school supplies. Since he had yet to visit the London branch of Gringotts, he figured he could take care of the House's business as well while there.

When the car pulled up to the rather dirty looking pub, Staros wondered about British wizards and their standards. While he had to admit, the area tended to dissuade mundanes from wandering in; he still thought more effort and care could have gone into the actual building itself. Being invisible to ordinary people did not mean it had to look like crap.

With a deep sigh, he stepped out of the car, walked over and into the Leaky Caldron. Once through the door, he saw the inside was no better than the outside, dimly lit by smoky oil lamps that hadn't even been charmed to emit better light or get rid of the smoke, the whole place felt like something out of the Dark Ages. Glancing around, he got a few odd looks for standing in the door, but mostly no one paid him any mind. He saw a man standing at the bar wiping glasses with a slightly stained, but hopefully clean towel. Guessing he must be the proprietor, Staros walked over to him, Carcerous just behind.

"Hello, sir. I understand that this is the primary way to reach Diagon Alley from mundane London. Could you please show me the entrance?"

"Mundane? Ah, you mean muggle. Yeah, this is the spot, son. Out back here, I'll show you the wall."

'Muggle? What in the hell is a muggle?' Staros thought. 'Brits are weird.'

Following the man, who introduced himself as Tom and nattered on about some Porter, Pockmark, whatever his name was coming back, out the back way, Staros once again was amazed at the overly complex method British wizards had for entering a shopping locale. As if the Notice-Me-Not and Non-Magical Repellant wards weren't enough, now there's this combination lock style tapping of a wand on some bricks to cause an archway to appear.

Thanking the man for his assistance, Staros led the way through the arch and out onto the busy street. Everywhere were wizards and witches of various nationalities, but mostly British, rushing about buying this, looking over that, and generally just reminding him of town market day back in the Renaissance era, not that today's malls were much better.

A quick glance around and he saw the entrance to Gringotts and began making his way over to it. As he walked, he took in the surrounding crowd and wished his parents and friends back home could see this. They always thought his affection for his cloak was odd. Here, he barely stood out at all. He was, in fact, the least oddly dressed person there and might even be taken for a salesman of some kind were he older, or maybe a delivery boy amid the movie extras back home.

Stepping up to the bank's stairs, he read the inscription overhead and nodded in agreement. As he stepped through the doors, he thanked the two guards who had opened them upon his approach, causing one to start and nearly drop his axe. Carcerous grinned at the goblin and quickly darted to follow Staros when the goblin sneered back at him.

Staros looked around the well decorated lobby and found a teller that didn't look too busy. All goblins were busy, he recalled, just some were less busy than others. Literally, time was money to the goblin.

Waiting a few minutes for the goblin to finish counting the pile of coins in front of him and make his entry into a ledger, Staros glanced around for a nameplate or some other identifying item to let him know whom he was addressing. Finding nothing, he waited for the goblin to acknowledge him, having already seen the discreet glances the goblin had made in his direction.

"Can I help you?" the goblin snarled as he pushed aside his ledger, obviously implying a complete waste of his time.

"Yes, Mr., ah..."

The goblin seemed slightly surprised that a wizard would ask his name, but quickly covered it up by pulling out and slamming down a nameplate onto his desk.

"Ah, Mr. Heartripper, I am here to speak with the account manager of the Marcus family for the London branch."

The goblin frowned slightly at that. "The London branch, boy? Where does your family normally do business? And who is your account manager?"

"Well, since my family has not had the privilege of access to your London offices in three hundred years, the majority of my father and grandfather's business has been with the New York and San Francisco offices. I imagine my brothers deal primarily with their local offices as well. We have not been in contact with the London office during that time and have not accessed the titled accounts or vaults as was part of our familial exile. Our manager at last contact was Master Clerk Grandlight but I am unaware as to his health or continued status."

Heartripper's eyes widened as Staros spoke and he looked almost afraid when the account manager's name was given, but he recovered quickly enough.

In a more polite tone than earlier, he said, "Yes, well, the Master Clerk has since moved on to another position. I shall have to see who he left his files with. A moment." With that, he summoned another goblin, spoke to him rapidly in gobbledygook, Staros only catching a few words about the Master Clerk, the bank manager, and something about dead flies? He probably heard that wrong, not being as well versed in Ghob'lay Khohk, known mostly to wizards as gobbledygook, as he would like. It was damned hard for humans to grasp.

The other goblin ran off to do whatever it was he'd been told and another goblin was summoned to escort Staros to a waiting area. A tray with a pitcher of water and a single glass was on a table, but Staros had been told it was a bad idea to help oneself to refreshments while waiting on goblins to arrive. As such, he simply wandered around the room and admired the weapons and battle trophies hanging or displayed on shelves.

After about twenty minutes, another goblin showed up to escort Staros to another section of the bank. With the twisting halls and remarkable number of doors, there was no doubt he would never find his way through alone, even with his superior direction sense. The goblin escort seemed to notice Staros' discomfort and grinned in a most evil fashion at him before suddenly stopping at a rather plain looking door and saying, "Enter," in a not so friendly manner.

"Thank you," said Staros, eliciting a look of surprise quickly hidden back under the sneer.

Entering the office, the first thing Staros noticed was the decided lack of trophies. Only a single shelf on the wall behind the desk contained anything at all, that being two large ledgers and what appeared to be a rather smallish, in growth anyway, sized dragon skull, a mere three feet long. Below the empty socketed glare sat a very old goblin behind a very solid looking desk. A single uncomfortable looking wooden chair stood before the desk. Two guards stood just inside the door to either side, unnoticeable until one had already stepped inside.

"Good day to you, sir. Am I right to assume you are the account manager for my family's portfolio here in England?"

The old goblin did a rather decent Spock impression with his raised eyebrow, but out did Leonard with the less than pleased impression it gave off. "I am the account manager of only two families, to which line are you making claim?"

"I am Staros Aniken Marcus of the House of Marcus, Earl of Moneda and Lord Foula, requesting a full accounting of our vaults, holdings, and properties as given in our treaty with Gringotts in 1181. I lay claim to the Line of Marcus and the House Marcus as is pertinent to the lands of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland, confirmed to service by the Queen of England September two years past," said Staros with a bow.

The goblin looked the boy in front of him over slightly before pulling out a drawer and laying a silver knife and stone bowl on the desk. "We will need proof of your claims, Staros."

"Of course, uh… Hmm, I just realized, that no one has informed me of your name, sir."

"I am the Assessor. Sit."

Staros sat in the offered, and yes, very uncomfortable chair before drawing out his wand from his wrist holster and laying it upon the desk. He noticed the guards tensing as if about to attack when he drew his wand and how they still seemed poised on the edge of violence despite his wand lying on the desk in front of him. A clear look of confusion on his face, he looked at Assessor and asked, "Have customs changed so much in a mere three hundred years? If so, I do apologize for any offense I may have incurred."

"No, young Staros,' said Assessor as he waved the guards back into their places. "You simply reminded us of an old custom long since buried under years of bad reactions and poor manners." With this, Assessor pulled a long knife from his belt and placed it upon the desk next to Staros' wand.

"Now, on to the matter at hand. If you have not used one of these before, child, this is a House claim test. Simply cut yourself with the knife upon your left hand, allow some blood to drop into the bowl and we shall verify your claims."

"Or I die a rather nasty death if I am false, eh Assessor?"

Assessor merely looked at Staros as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Very well, opportunity awaits," said Staros as he picked up the knife. "Carcerous you are ordered to remain still until this is over. Should I fail, you are to report back to father. Under no circumstances are you to take any actions against the goblins, understood?"

"Aye, Master Staros." The elf looked none too pleased by this statement, but would obey.

Staros looked the knife over for a moment and then drew it in a short line across the palm of his left hand. With a hiss of pain, he held his hand for a moment allowing the blood to pool slightly in his palm before tilting it and dribbling it into the bowl. He wiped the knife across his sleeve as he did this and set it back upon the desk. The Assessor nodded to him and then reached over and picked up the knife. Tracing the blade in a reverse of the cut Staros had made, Staros watched as the cut healed itself after which Staros pulled out a small handkerchief and wiped the remaining blood off his hand.

"Thank you, Assessor. How long before the results are known?"

"A few moments, young Staros." Assessor picked up the bowl and laid the knife across the top before waving his hand in a rather complicated pattern over both item. Pulling a piece of parchment from another drawer, he then picked the knife back up, dipped it in the blood, and set the point onto a small rune drawn towards the top of the sheet. Spidery lines began to trace themselves down from the rune, first showing Staros' name, then his father and mother, grandfather, and so forth back through several generations of his family. As they watched, Assessor suddenly nodded and pulled the knife away, stopping whatever magic was involved. With a negligent wave of his hand, the bowl and knife were cleaned and the parchment burned to ash.

"Your claims are established, you are the Heir of Marcus." With that statement, Assessor turned and pulled down one of the two large ledgers from the shelf. "A full accounting of the last three hundred years will take some time to pull together. Would you care for a summary now and a delivery of the details later?"

"That is most acceptable, Assessor. We each have other business to do today, so I would not wish to take up any more of your valuable time with what will amount to a rather dull list of every transaction made. Current status and values is fine for the moment, as well as a trip to the family vault. There are a couple of items I am told I must retrieve."

"As you say, young Staros. I shall have you escorted down to your vault and here is a listing of your current holdings and values." Assessor slid a bound folder out of the ledger and across the desk. "It is a pleasure to work with your family again. I was your ancestor's manager before taking up this position and the only two accounts I held onto were the Marcus and Potter ledgers."

"Potter? Hmm, oh yes. Rivals at one time or another, like the Blacks. Just as often allies. Have they recovered from that little tiff I read about? The Queen was most concerned with some of the odd rumors she managed to squeeze from the Ministry during the, what was it called? The war with Voldemort?"

A brief look of surprise crossed the Assessor's face before he said, "Ah, yes. You have only recently returned from exile. Your family may not be fully up to date on all that has happened. The Potter line is nearly extinct I am sad to say, courtesy of a war with that powerful Dark Lord that started about 15 years ago. The family had the misfortune of being an irritation to him and he decided to end them completely. Somehow, he managed only to destroy himself, but not before killing the last heir's parents, nearly killing off a dozen other lines of succession, and generally making a mess of magical Britain. Since during the fight he was killed off as well, it left the sole witness a year old babe. He'd be about your age now; you will probably meet him in Hogwarts if you plan on attending."

"Yes, a condition of my grandfather and the Queen's agreement. I must attend this so called premier academy of magic. Pfftt. If it was so good, why haven't I seen anything published from it in any of the discovery newsletters? I had to dredge around in archives before I found a mention of it at all. Seems only a certain potions master has made any name for the school in a long while."

"Indeed, well, enough chatter. Your escort is here, young Staros. Please leave word of your location with the front desk and your full accounting shall be delivered in the next two days."

"Thank you for your time, Assessor. May your enemies falter and your cup run over." Staros retrieved his wand, bowed, and made his way out with his escort.

Some time, and a thoroughly exhilarating cart ride later, Staros stood before his family's title vault. The goblin escorting him stepped out of the cart and shoved the lamp into Staros' hands. Looking over the door, he looked back and said, "Key please."

Staros was confused for a moment, but then he remembered the ring his grandfather had given him. Handing the lamp back to the goblin, he pulled the ring off his left middle finger and looked it over. Seeing a single rune set on the inside of the band, he smiled and handed the ring to the goblin, taking back the lamp.

The goblin frowned and looked at the ring before turning to the door and shoving the ring into an odd depression to one side of the keyhole. A slight click, and then a dull thunk sounded. A few seconds later, the doors began to quietly move outward on hidden hinges.

"I will wait in the cart," said the goblin, moving back away from the doors, and of course, taking the lamp with him. At least he gave back the ring before hurrying off.

"Well, Carcerous, shall we?" asked Staros as he walked through the doors. Inside, charmed lamps lit as he passed the threshold and cast pale light about the entry. Other lamps lit in sequence both left and right around the room until the whole vault was lit displaying dozens of chests, numerous wardrobes and cabinets, shelves and armor racks, weapons displays and trophy cases, and a single podium just to the fore of the doorway. On it was a book and a small jewelry box.

Staros stepped up to the podium and glanced at the book title. As he suspected, it was a ledger of the vault contents, of interest later, but for now the box was more important. Lifting the lid of the box, he looked down upon the strangely woven silver and gold chain that held a rather disturbing looking pendant of blackened gold with a dark teardrop ruby set center. The pendant seemed to pulse as he traced his hands over the chain before lifting it out of the box.

"This is the Legacy of the Marcus family, Carcerous. Within this stone resides our greatest power, our oldest wisdom, and our strongest curse. It has held us through dark times and bounty, through centuries of doubt and fear, and helped guide us towards the vision seen so many years ago."

"I be seein' strong magic der Master Staros. Dis be da gem I be hearin' about all dese years?"

"Aye, that and more. The rumors hardly touch the surface of it," Staros said as he slipped the chain over his head, settling the pendant on his chest. A pulse of magic and the chain resized to hold itself just over the boy's heart while the ruby darkened just a bit more. A shudder passed through Staros. "It is done. I have claimed the House of Marcus. Let us finish our business in the alley and then I need to get some sleep."

After gathering some of the coinage, and briefly wondering why magical Britain hadn't caught up with the rest of the world economy and standardized the silver and gold values to simpler math formulae while still using bronze of all things, Staros and Carcerous made their way back to the carts and another wild ride later, were escorted out into the main lobby. Thanking the goblin who led them out, Staros strode out of the building with elf following.

"Master Staros, sir. We be needin' to get you a wand, sir," said Carcerous after they had been shopping for other materials. Already packed into a rather nice trunk with the Hogwarts arms were a complete potions regimen, with several extras, a rather large collection of books including many not part of the current curriculum, and the school robes and uniforms that every private school on the planet seemed to delight in forcing their students to wear. At least they were of a better than standard cloth and the charms on them superior to most.

"Why, exactly do I need a wand, Carcerous? I already have one."

"Remember, Master Staros, sir, your fadder be sayin' about da Trace and how wizards in school must be havin' a wand made by Ollivander, sir."

"Ollivander? Very well, if I must, I must. Lead on."

Walking into Ollivander's wand shop, Staros was not overly impressed. Everywhere were stacks of boxes with premade wands. No cores, no wood samples, no gems collections, no staves or rods, just wand boxes. Was this really the shop of a wand crafter?

When the very strange looking man who must be Ollivander stepped out of nowhere, Staros almost threw a curse at him. The old man looked down at the wand already in Staros' hand and looked back up, raising an eyebrow.

"I apologize, sir. You startled me."

"And what brings you to my shop today, young man?"

"I am told that I must have one of your wands while I attend school at Hogwarts, sir. I am not much happy about it, seeing as I already have a wand, but the rules are the rules as they say."

"Indeed. Might I see this wand of yours, my boy?"

"As long as you aren't going to muck it up with this Trace I have heard your Ministry enforces on students. I'll not have you messing with one of Carnegie's masterpieces with foreign magics."

"Carnegie? Oh, yes, I remember him. No, I assure you I shall not do anything to your wand, lad. Although I am even more curious about it now since Carnegie was an apprentice of mine."

Staros handed the man his wand, keeping a careful eye on him the whole time. He turned the wand over in his hands, examining the dragon and wolf carvings and the small emerald stone set in the base. He traced his fingers along the seams made by the two woods and how the carvings made the woods appear to almost be parts of a single, if twin colored, piece. A few flicks and swishes causing some colored lights and a sprinkling of golden dust and Ollivander handed the wand back.

"I think I know just the wand for you, my boy," he said as he started rummaging through the piles of boxes. "Ah, here, try this one out."

A couple of swishes produced no effect and the old man took the wand back, handing Staros another. A few more exchanges like this, one resulting in a very exploded, although it was half dead already, potted plant in one corner, and Staros was finally handed a wand that produced some silver streamers when he waved it.

"Ah yes. Ten inches, rowan wood, quite sturdy with a core of werewolf fur. An oddity in my shop to be sure, but one I was quite proud to make."

"Hmmm… Interesting seeing as how my wand from Carnegie is Rowan and Ebony, werewolf and a Hebridean Black dragon heartstring. Anyway, are there any rules I should know about possessing more than one wand?"

"Well, lad, the Ministry prefers that all wands be registered, but seeing you are the Head of House by that ring there, I believe you are allowed an exception."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Ollivander. I really must be going now." Staros picked out some care materials and paid for it all before making his way back to the hotel.


	5. Chance Allowance

September first rolled around finding Staros and Carcerous making their way through a crowded train station looking for a platform that did not seem to exist.

"No wonder the first generation wizards have so many problems! How in the hell are we to find a platform in this mess with no guides?" Staros said for the third or fourth time. Carcerous sighed again, knowing full well that no answer was really required. He had already tried to locate this magical platform, but the entire area was blanketed with so many unfamiliar enchantments, a single one was difficult to make out. As Staros pushed the cart with his trunk on it, he wondered just how he was supposed to find this damnable platform. Seeing a constable, he decided to chance asking him.

"Sir, I seem to be having a bit of issue here. I am trying to find the eleven o'clock train from platform nine and three-quarters."

"Are you daft, boy? There's no such platform or train and you know it. You're with that other kid aren't you? Trying to make me a fool are you? Get on out of here before I haul you in."

A confused look on his face, Staros asked, "What other kid?"

"That one over there, sitting on the bench. Now off!"

Seeing a rather puny looking boy with wild black hair, broken glasses, and clothes that could only be described as ill-fitting in the broadest of terms, Staros said his thanks to the constable and made his way over to the bench.

"Excuse me, I was told you are also looking for a non-existent platform?"

The boy looked a little afraid as he answered, "Um, yes. Why? Do you know where platform nine and three-quarters is?" Bright emerald green eyes looked up and then away and down, not meeting Staros' own.

"Not a clue. How is a person supposed to find anything in this mess? Anyway, mind if I sit with you? Maybe we'll get lucky and someone who's been there before will pass by."

"Ok, sure," said the boy. "My name's Harry. This is my owl Hedwig."

Seeing that Harry already had a cart not quite even half full, Staros had Carcerous transfer his solitary trunk onto it and push his cart back to the loading area while Staros sat on the bench. Harry stared at Carcerous, likely never having seen an elf before.

"Hello, Harry, pleased to meet you. I am Staros Marcus, this here is Carcerous, my retainer. Don't worry about anyone seeing him, he's quite good at hiding from the mundanes."

"Mundanes?" Harry asked, shaking Staros' hand while giving Carcerous a slightly odd look.

"Oh, right. I believe you Brits call them muggles or something?"

"Brits? Are you from the continent or something?"

"Sorta. How do you guys put it? Across the pond actually. American and Californian born and raised. Spent some time in Japan with one of older brothers, but mostly just a lot of California. Now I'm here to reclaim my family's ancestral lands. So far, the promise is of lots of work, followed by annoyance, followed by more work."

"Wow."

About this time, a group of red headed children led by a dumpy woman of middling years walked by. "Packed with muggles, as always…"

Hearing this, Staros and Harry both swung around and looked more closely at the group.

Looking them over, there were four boys of various ages, one looking to about theirs, two of the boys appeared to be twins, and a girl a year or so younger. All the boys had carts loaded with trunks similar to their own and one boy had an owl cage. That seemed to cinch it as Harry and Staros looked at each other and nodded together in unspoken agreement. They gathered themselves and their belongings and moved towards the odd looking group.

"Excuse me, madam. We couldn't help but overhear and hoped you might know where the eleven o'clock train might be leaving from?" asked Staros as diplomatically as he possibly could think of without saying 'Hogwarts' to what might be just a regular, non-magical family.

"First time to Hogwarts, dearies?" the woman asked. "No worries, first time through the barrier to the platform is always a bit confusing. Just follow the boys. Percy, howabout you show them?"

The older boy nodded and set himself behind his cart. Then he began to push it up to a trotting speed right at the wall of one of the support pillars. Just as it appeared he was going to crash, he disappeared right into the wall!

"Wow!" said Harry.

"No wonder we couldn't find it," Staros said. "Thank you for pointing the way, ma'am."

"Oh, no worries, dear. Howabout you and your friend go on through next. Best if you give it a good run through the first time."

Nodding their heads, Staros and Harry pushed their cart over to line it up with the wall. Carcerous looked on unseen but a barely noticeable shake of Staros' head and he nodded back before disappearing himself. His master would want him to remain unnoticed for now. Once they were lined up, they looked at each other, nodded once, and began to push their cart as hard as they could. Getting into a slight run, they fast approached the wall with a little hope and not so little fear of the very solid looking barrier. Even though Staros had grown up in a magical family, he had never had to run himself into a wall like this and briefly wondered if it was all some kind of weird British joke, if they would crash into the wall and everyone would stand around laughing at the two gullible boys.

Just as it appeared they would hit the wall, Harry and Staros both winced a bit and screwed their eyes shut, both expecting any second to run smack into unyielding bricks. When they didn't, Harry opened his eyes first to find them exiting a short dark tunnel into a wide open platform previously unseen. Nudging Staros, they both looked around and realized that this was the impossible to find platform nine and three-quarters.

"We better move out of the way," Staros said, helping Harry push their cart towards the train on their left. "Wouldn't want anyone to run into us."

Harry and Staros pushed their cart over to the train and struggled to get both their trunks and Harry other couple of bags off the cart and onto the train.

"Oy, need some help there?" asked a boy. Turning around, they saw the twin fellows from earlier.

"Yes, please," said Harry. "By the way, could you thank your mum for us again. We would never have figured out how to get here on time otherwise."

"Sure, no…" started one boy.

"Worries, mate," finished the next. Obviously a twin thing.

"My name's George Weasley," said the first.

"And I'm his devilishly handsome brother, Fred," said the second.

"Staros Marcus. Thanks for the assist, guys."

"Harry Potter. My thanks too."

"Harry…"

"…Potter?"

"Really? Can we see it?"

"You know, the scar?"

Harry looked a bit confused and quite embarrassed by the sudden attention, but pulled his bangs out of the way to show a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

"Sweet," the twins said together before waving and walking off to get their own things on board.

"Downright odd those two are," Staros said. "Anyways, let's get on board, put these trunks away, and get off our feet. Trip's supposed to be a while."

Looking relieved that no one else wanted to stare at him, Harry agreed and before long, the two were ensconced in a compartment chatting about what they had seen so far of the British wizarding world.


	6. Chance Bothers

Just before the train took off, the youngest of the redheaded boys from earlier stumbled in.

"Mind if I share with you? Most of the other compartments are full or have way too many girls in them."

Staros frowned slightly as a train this size could hardly be full, but noted to rather shoddy clothing and the oft repaired trunk the boy had and decided that he had probably been coldly pushed away by some of the better off students or was embarrassed looking at many of the better dressed students. Glancing at Harry's clothing, he noted a similarity in how the two were dressed if one assumed a low income. Taking into account that this boy was the youngest of at least three older boys, he likely had more hand-me-downs than clothes of his own and didn't want to be stuck in a compartment with people who would look down on him.

"Sure, have a seat," said Harry. "We were just talking about what we've seen so far of the wizarding world."

Staros stood and helped the boy put his trunk up on the hold shelves before sitting back down and saying, "Yeah, neither of us have seen anything like it before."

As the redhead sat down, he said, "You muggle born or something?"

"Muggle? Oh, right. That's you Brits' term for mundanes. No, I'm born in a magical family but I have never been to Britain until recently. We've been in exile for a while and I'm the first to come back and attend Hogwarts in three centuries."

"Cor, so long? What'd they exile you for?"

Laughing, Staros replied, "Don't really know. I was never too good at the lengthy family history. Annoyed my tutors to no end. Some argument one of our ancestors had with King George or something. Couldn't have been too bad. Exile is a pretty light punishment when you piss off a king."

The other two boys chuckled at that. Then Harry said, "My parents were both magical, but they were killed by Voldemort when I was a baby so my aunt and uncle raised me. I didn't even know I was a wizard until a few weeks ago."

Harry and Staros both noticed the flinch from the other boy when Harry said Voldemort and both shared the same confused look.

"Blimey! Don't say You-Know-Who's name like that! About gave me a heart attack!"

"Um, ok. Sorry about that. I didn't know you weren't supposed to say his name."

"No worries, mate. Anyways, I'm Ron Weasley. My whole family's magical, except for mum's second cousin. He's an accountant or something, no one talks much about him."

"Staros Marcus. Pleased to meet you, Ron."

"Harry Potter, nice to meet you, Ron."

"Cor, THE Harry Potter?"

Looking like he was going to be sick, Harry sighed and pulled his bangs back again.

"Blimey." Ron's ability to blunder into especially painful areas was fast becoming apparent as was Harry's lack of desire to be known as THE Harry Potter.

"So, I picked up a couple wizard newspapers a few days ago, and since you're our resident expert, Ron, could you tell us about a few things? Like what is this weirdly named game, quidpick? Quicksquid? Something like that?" said Staros in an attempt to break the sudden silence, especially since America had its own Quiddittch teams. Sitting between a fanboy and his dream was a little weird.

"Quidditch you mean? Just the most amazing game ever!" Apparently having picked the right subject, Staros and Harry sat back and listened to Ron go into very minute detail about the oddly named game. Players, positions, the balls, the pitch, moves; all were described with great enthusiasm and a lot of hand waving.

Conversation turned to other wizard subjects like Ron's older brothers, Bill and Charlie. Also touched on were the famous, or infamous depending on who you ask, Weasley twins, Fred and George and their array of pranks, descriptions of which had all three laughing like madmen and nearly on the floor at times. Staros talked about the weather in Britain and California and despaired to the other two about how he would never see the sun again, or be dry, or warm. His hysterics had the other two laughing some more and constantly assuring him that it was much, much worse than he feared. Harry told them about what happened when Hagrid came to pick him up. Everyone shared a good roll when he told them about Dudley's tail and Vernon's alternating red and white faces.

About this time, the lunch lady came by and asked if they wanted anything. Seeing Ron's hungry but despairing look, Harry's equally hungry but confused look, and wondering about British treats himself, Staros offered to buy everyone a bit of everything. Harry looked surprised but nodded, Ron looked just as surprised, but also jealous and hurt at the same time; the sign of a proud family that rejected charity, but at the same time, Ron WAS only eleven and all kids are a tad greedy.

"Don't worry about it, Ron. I have no idea what any of this is really and by the looks of it, Harry has never tried any of it either. We're going to have you tell us what is good and what to avoid here."

Ron looked warily at Staros for a moment before grinning and running through a list of things on the cart that were his favorites, as well as a number of things they should try just for the experience. After all was said and done, they had left very little of the trolley untouched. Staros paid the lady and thanked her before settling back to try out some of the oddities before him.

"These are chocolate frogs," began Ron's lesson on the British wizarding world's sweets and candies. Sugar quills, cockroach clusters, blood pops, Bertie's Every Flavor Beans, and many more were covered, tried, eaten, and discussed in great detail. The Beans were Staros' favorite item as he loved the calculated risk you took trying to guess the flavor based on smell, color, and consistency before eating one. There just wasn't anything like this back home. Laughs were had all around as some guesses were very far off. Harry got his first look at wizarding pictures with the collector's cards from the chocolate frogs and it was explained to him that wizarding photos captured a few seconds of time, sometimes even a few minutes of the actions and replayed them over and over. Wizarding paintings were explained as having a bit of the memory and personality of the person in them, really useful if you wanted to consult various historical personages, family ancestors, or whatnot about their lives and current opinions. The printed pictures were a little of both.

Discussion moved into spells and Staros showed off some of what he already knew, mostly little household charms useful for keeping one's room tidy. Harry admitted to having only just started into his books with no idea what half of it meant. Ron said he knew a couple spells, but wasn't very good at them, offering to show them one his brothers had shown him but he hadn't quite gotten the hang of. Harry welcomed the chance to see more magic while Staros offered to see if he could give any pointers on the spell to make it work better.

Ron pulled out his wand and then reached into another pocket and pulled out a sleeping rat. Explaining that it was his older brother Percy's pet rat, Scabbers, from when he started Hogwarts, but he didn't need it now that he had an owl his parents had bought him for making Prefect, he got himself ready to cast the awaited spell when the door suddenly slid open and a bushy haired, very energetic girl burst in.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville here has lost his," she said while indicating the shy, slightly pudgy boy with the worried look behind her.

"No. Can't say that we have," said Harry.

"Are you sure…" began Ron.

"That he brought him on the train, yes," the girl said slightly annoyed, obviously having been asked this question more than once. "Are you going to do some magic?" she asked, seeing Ron's wand in his hand. "I've read all of our course books and can't wait to be allowed to do some more myself. None of my family is magical so it's all so very exciting. Come on then, let's see it." All this came out as she plopped herself down next to Ron.

The boy, Neville, had quietly entered the compartment by this time and stood next to Staros. Staros nodded a greeting to the obviously very shy boy, gestured for him to sit down, which he did with a slight smile, and turned to Ron to see what would happen.

Ron sat there slightly stunned for a moment until the command trickled through. Then he squared his shoulders and began to cast the spell.

"_Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!_" Ron said as he waved his wand in a circle over Scabbers. Nothing happened.

"Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good is it? I've tried only some simple ones myself, just for practice, but they've all worked for me. Maybe you need to work on your wand movements or something? Oh, and I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, you are?"

Everyone was in awe as all of this spilled out so rapidly from the girl's mouth that she scarcely seemed to breathe. For a few seconds, silence reigned.

"Oh, sorry. I'm Staros Marcus." Staros said, half-bowing from his seat.

"Ron Weasley."

"Neville Longbottom."

"Harry Potter." This of course, set her off again.

"Are you really? I know all about you of course. I picked up a few extra books for background reading and you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

Harry just kind of stared into space, looking dejected and fearful all at once.

"Harry's been raised by mundanes, apparently ones who didn't inform him of his status in the magical world, Ms. Granger. He only just found out about magic around the same time you did," said Staros.

"Oh, I am sorry. If you want to see what they've written, I can loan you the copies I have anytime you want. Have any of you wondered what house you'll be in? I've asked around a bit and I'm hoping for Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best. Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw would be just as nice. Anyway, we better get back to finding Neville's toad. You three better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon. Oh, by the way, _Occulus_ _Reparo_." Again, the girl amazed everyone with the amount of words she could squeeze into a single breath. By the time the other three had shaken it off, she and Neville had left and everyone realized that she had repaired Harry's glasses with a simple spell.

"Wow," said Staros. "Are all the girls in Britain that, um, energetic?"

Harry didn't know what to say, merely shrugging as he took his glasses off to look them over. They were good as new, maybe better.

Ron laughed, "No, only a few. Our neighbor, Luna is pretty quiet. Barmy, but quiet. My sister is a bit loud, but she takes after mum. Whatever house I end up in, I hope she's not in it though. I'd be around the bend inside a week." With a sigh, he looked back down at his rat. "Stupid spell. George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

"George is one of the twins from earlier, right?" asked Staros.

"What house are they in?" asked Harry, putting his specs back on.

"Yeah, that's them. They're in Gryffindor." Ron seemed to become a bit more depressed as he pocketed Scabbers. "Mum and dad were in it too. Dunno what they'd say if I didn't get in. Ravenclaw prolly wouldn't matter, but imagine if I was put in Slytherin." The last was said with a shudder.

"That's the house Vol-, sorry, I mean You-Know-Who was in?" said Harry.

"So what?" asked Staros. "One bad apple turns the whole barrel? Just because a nut case came out of that house doesn't make the rest of them a bunch of psychos."

Ron looked at Staros like he was an idiot and simply said, "Yeah, well all his toadies came out of Slytherin too. Every Dark Wizard we've ever had comes from there."

Harry noticed the tension and changed the subject, "What do your older brothers do now that they're out of school?"

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons and Bill's in Africa working for Gringotts. Speaking of, did you hear there was a break in at Gringotts? It's been all over the _Daily Prophet_, but I don't suppose you'd get that with muggles. Wizard newspaper. Someone tried to rob a high security vault."

Staros cocked his head to the side. "Aren't the goblins a little, um, over reactive about break-ins and such? I remember the sign over the doors promising pretty nasty responses to being where you don't belong. What happened to the robbers?"

Ron shrugged. "Nothing. That's what's so big. They never caught whoever it was. My dad says only a really powerful Dark wizard could have pulled it off but according to the _Prophet_, nothing was taken which makes it doubly odd."

Further discussion was halted by the second sudden slamming open of the compartment door. In strode three boys, one pale and blonde, and the other two ham-fisted, dark haired and standing like bad imitations of hired muscle. The pale boy's clothing was from a finer cut than most anyone else they had seen, but appeared impractical for travelling north to Scotland. Staros had similar clothing in his trunks, but had chosen to wear something a bit warmer as he was still trying to get used to the colder clime.

"Is it true?" he asked. "They're saying that THE Harry Potter is in this compartment." The boy was looking at Staros as he said this, probably assuming that his better clothing made him the obvious choice. "You him? You should really watch the types of people you hang out with. You wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea about you. I can help with that."

Staros looked the boy up and down, and then glanced at his two fellows behind him. "Yes, I'm sure you think so. However, as I can see that you have obviously not been instructed in proper manners, I kindly ask for you to leave. Preferably now."

The boy looked a bit shocked that someone would talk down to him and made an obvious effort to stay calm. "Yes. Well, you probably don't know who I am. These are Crabbe and Goyle. I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight snigger at the boy's name, but before Draco could say anything to him, Staros stood up and said, quite coldly, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Malfoy. I am Lord Staros Aniken Marcus of the House of Marcus. This here is Ronald Weasley of Clan Weasley and Harry Potter, scion of House Potter. Now that the introductions are concluded, could you please tell me why you felt it necessary to burst into a closed compartment without even the courtesy of knocking first? We were discussing some rather interesting things and would so love to return to our conversation."

At first, Draco had looked to be about to explode on Ron, but with the declaration of Staros' title and the rather long, formal introductions, he seemed to become lost as to what to do. Blinking a couple of times, he murmured something that could have been taken for an apology before leaving the compartment looking slightly dazed.

For a moment, everyone stood still and looked at each other. Then all three boys started to twitch at the mouth slightly. Twitches turned to half smiles, grins, and then to snickers and full belly laughs.

"Dear gods, that was fun!" declared Staros, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Are you really a Lord?" asked Ron who appeared to be trying to contain his ribs.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't worry about it much. Being Lord of three frozen rocks in the North Sea isn't exactly much to write home about. Old family lands and whatnot. I'm sure your family has a much nicer home, or at least more hospitable since no one been to ours in three hundred years."

Ron frowned for a moment, but seemed to accept this and didn't press any further.

"Did you see the look on his face when you asked him about knocking?" said Harry, sending all three back into fits of laughter.

Two additional interruptions of Staros and Harry's 'Intro to Wizardry by Ron Weasely' happened both being people who had decided to come and meet the one and only Harry Potter. The first was a rather polite Italian boy their age who introduced himself as Blaise Zabini. He said that he stopped by because Draco was making a big stink about Harry with the Slytherin prefects and he wanted to see this "upstart blood traitor's spawn" for himself. After seeing Harry, he shook his head and told the three that Harry looked about like any other kid on the train so he didn't see what all the fuss was about.

The other interruption was by a Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis both of whom merely wished to meet the new players on the field as it were. Harry looked very confused at this and Daphne's rather disappointed look after meeting him spoke volumes to Staros. As Staros was the one who had opened the door for her, he took this moment to lean in and whisper to her.

"I know, he's not much to look at is he?" said Staros quietly to Daphne. "Hard to believe he's the scion of House Potter. I do believe the boy truly has no idea of his status in magical Britain."

Daphne shot Staros a pointed look that promised a longer discussion at another time before saying her farewells and leaving the compartment. Tracey just smirked before waving goodbye and following her.

Sometime later, as the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station at Hogsmeade, the three boys had gotten dressed in their school robes, Ron eyeing the other two's newer clothes with barely concealed jealousy. Harry's were plainer, but obviously of decent cut, while Staros' robes were of obviously finer material. Not the best, as they later saw when they encountered Draco again whose robes were made of a light silk and cotton mix, but still better than average, with a fit that bespoke of several fittings rather than sizing charms. Ron's robes were obviously repaired more than once and resized a couple of times as well and the manner with which he put them on spoke volumes about his dislike and embarrassment.

Harry seemed oblivious to Ron's looks, but Staros saw them often enough to make him wonder if he should be searching his pockets to make sure everything was still there. What few treats the boys had not already eaten were divvied up, Staros giving Ron a somewhat larger share in an effort to assuage his jealous nature, holding on to only the Beans for himself, and packed into their trunks, which they were told to leave onboard to be sent to their rooms later. Staros frowned slightly at this and discretely tapped his wand against the crest on his trunk to activate the special locks. After checking each other over to make sure all was in order, they made their way out of the train and down with the other students.


	7. Ghost of a Chance

"I wonder where we go from here," said Harry, looking about, then catching sight of and hurrying over to a rather large man, easily seven foot if an inch.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, 'Arry?" said the man as the other two caught up. "See ya made some friends, have ye?"

"Yes. This is Ron and Staros," replied Harry. "Guys, this is Hagrid. He's the one I told you about."

"Nice to meet you, sir," said Staros while Ron sort of stared at how huge the man was, eyes bugging a little.

"Blimey."

"Nah need t'call me sir, Staros. Hagrid is fine," rumbled the large man. "Ceptin' meybee in classes or summat. I help teach the Care of Magical Creatures, but yeh won't be havin' dat dis year."

"As you wish, Hagrid." Staros smiled at the man then reached over and nudged Ron as the boy was starting to look like he may have passed out standing. Ron jumped a bit, but his reaction was lost amid the last arrivals of other first year students.

Hagrid looked out over the assembled children, bobbing and shuffling, some staring open mouthed at the huge man before them.

"C'mon, follow me. Anymore firs' years? Mind yer step now! Firs' years, follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling along the dark path, lit only by a few lanterns and Hagrid's large lamp, they followed Hagrid down a narrow trail through some woods. There was very little conversation, mostly people like Neville, who seemed to have still not found his toad, calling out for their pets, some successfully, but most in vain.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o'Hogwarts in a sec," called Hagrid, "jus' round the bend here."

As the students rounded the bend, there was a collective sound of exclamations, sharp intakes, and other responses to the sight before them. Standing majestically atop a sharp cliff overlooking a dark lake was a large castle. The main section sat tall and square and looked impregnable, later wings obvious from the lesser amounts of ivy climbing the steep walls with additional towers poking up in some odd places. A single spiral type tower rose higher than the rest with a flat top, some students rightly guessing that would be where Astronomy classes would be held. The assembled children had never seen anything so grand and promising of adventure as the sight before them suggested.

"No more'n four t'a boat!" Hagrid called out, shocking them out of their reverie. That's when they all noticed the small boats moored to short docks just in front of them, previously hidden by the vision of the castle proper. Staros held the side of one boat steady from the docks while Ron and Harry climbed in. As he was getting ready to step in himself, the bushy haired girl Hermione from earlier stepped up to him looking a little lost. Being the gentleman he was, he offered her his hand and helped her into the boat, earning a pointed look from Ron to which Staros shrugged and simply got in himself.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a slightly larger boat all to himself, "Right then, FORWARD!"

All of the loaded boats started forward at once, sliding around each other in some kind of dance until they all spaced out evenly into ordered rows gliding smoothly over the dark waters. The group moved silently all looking at the looming cliffs as they got closer to the castle perched above that would be their home for the next several months and years.

"Heads down!" called out Hagrid as they approached a dark spot on the cliff. The spot turned out to be a curtain of ivy like the rest of the cliff walls, but with an opening behind that allowed the boats entry into a large semi-natural chamber with another set of small docks. As the students disembarked upon the wharf, Hagrid called out, "Oy, you there! Dis yer toad?"

"Trevor!" cried Neville as he rushed over to retrieve his toad.

They then all followed Hagrid up a set of wide stairs, through a large passageway and onto a grassy marshaling area in front of a set of large doors to the castle proper. Hagrid knocked three times on the massive doors before stepping back as they swung open immediately.

Out of the doors stepped a tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes. Beneath her pointed hat stared a stern, uncompromising face that bespoke of little regard for trouble makers and a high value on rules.

"The firs' years, Prof'sser McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She nodded once to the big man as he tipped his hand at his brow before turning and making his way back the way they had come, disappearing around a bend in the passage.

Professor McGonagall pulled the doors wide and then gestured for the students to follow. Her stride was quick but even, the walk of someone for whom time should not be wasted. Through the massive doors was an entryway easily fifty feet across, maybe a hundred or so long and about two stories high. Students goggled at the room seeing as it was larger than many of the children's entire homes. Very few could be said to look unimpressed.

They followed the woman across this hall, then off to the side through another archway, up some stairs and into what appeared to be a waiting chamber. Professor McGonagall stepped up onto second step of a short flight that lead to another door before turning and gesturing for the students to halt. As they waited for everyone to gather, Staros idly wondered how many times the castle had been modified and if anyone in England had every bothered with blueprints.

As the final students gathered into the room, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and called them to attention.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she started out. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you can take your seats in the Great hall, you must be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while we are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

With that, she turned and walked through the door before them.

Harry looked at Ron and asked, "How exactly do they sort us into houses?"

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking," Ron replied looking rather nervous. Staros glanced around and saw that Ron wasn't the only one looking nervous, especially after that part about tests and hurting. Neville looked ready to throw up and Draco had paled a few shades beyond healthy. Hermione looked to be muttering to herself, probably going over things she had crammed into her head before coming to Hogwarts.

Sighing, Staros spoke up, "Seriously guys, we're eleven. What are they going to test us with? And what school causes kids our age pain? Discomfort maybe, but I doubt they'll torture us."

Everyone looked at him like he'd grown a second head or something before what he said sank in. As the tension level settled back to normal and hushed idle chatter started back up, Daphne walked over with a regal bearing to Staros and looked him in the eye. Not knowing what else to do, he looked right back at her. A few moments of this and she nodded once, turned and went back to Tracey. Staros watched her leave then looked at Harry and Ron in confusion. Ron shrugged and Harry shook his head at the unasked question. Putting it out of his mind as a girl thing for now, Staros turned to Neville and asked him about his family. The boy looked about to answer when someone towards the back of the room screamed suddenly.

"What the… " Harry started to say then gasped like several others around him. About twenty people had floated through a wall and were gliding several feet above the ground towards the group. A moment of shock and everyone realized they must be ghosts; the translucency, lack of feet in several cases, and overall weirdness being 'dead' giveaways. They seemed to be arguing about something, having not really seemed to have noticed the children in the hall.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance…" said one towards the front, a rather portly fellow wearing what could only be a medieval monk's robe.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost. Oh, I say, what are you all doing here?" said the ghost next to the Friar, wearing rather dated clothing with ruffles and tight pants, seemingly just noticing the gathered students.

No one spoke.

"New students!" exclaimed the one called Friar, smiling and looking around. "About to be sorted I suppose?"

A few people nodded at him, still in a bit of shock. Some others tried to look rather bored with the whole thing, but didn't speak up either.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" he said. "My old house, you know. Call me the Fat Friar."

Before any of the other ghosts could introduce themselves, a sharp voice called out, "Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."

No one had noticed Professor McGonagall's return, engrossed with the ghosts as they were. One by one, the ghosts bowed or nodded to her as they left the room through another wall, their previous conversation picking back up. "Seriously, now. As I said…"

"Now, form a line and follow me," Professor McGonagall told the students. Everyone hurried into a more or less organized line, Harry getting behind some sandy haired boy, Ron behind Harry, Neville, then Staros, followed by Hermione, all kind of in the middle of the ragtag line. Following the older witch, they trudged back out of the chamber they had entered, further up the long entry hall, and through a large pair of double doors into what must be the Great Hall.


	8. Chance and Dinner

Everyone looked about as they entered the largest room many had ever seen in their lives. Thousands of candles floated in the air or drifted about the room over four very long tables set lengthwise in the hall with a fifth, smaller table sitting crosswise on a dais towards the far wall. The other students were seated at the four longer tables, each in the same school uniforms as the first years, but with trim colors, ties, pins, and/or scarves in what must be the house colors. The fifth table all contained adults of various ages, demeanors, and in a couple of cases, species since one fellow was very short in appearance while another looked to be a ghost.

As Staros looked up at the ceiling and murmured about how well it was done, Hermione whispered, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_."

Indeed, the ceiling looked to not even exist as the appearance of the night sky was so realistic with shifting clouds and the stars shining brightly. Even the moon in perfect alignment with the current phase showed off to one side.

Everyone quickly brought their attention back forward as Professor McGonagall had stopped and pulled a four legged stool in front of the first years. On it was a rather battered looking, not quite pointed hat with a wide brim and almost as many patches as original material.

As the students looked at the rather ugly looking hat and all silently wondered what it had to do with the Sorting, the hat twitched and then seemed to split nearly in half as what could pass as a mouth began to speak, or more accurately, sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can top them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a steady mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The hall burst into applause as the hat finished. It bowed to the students, new and old before resuming its place looking as battered as ever, still and silent.

Professor McGonagall stepped up next to the stool and hat and pulled out a rolled parchment scroll. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbot, Hannah!"

As a pink-faced girl with blond pigtails stumbled to the front of the line and over to the stool, Ron whispered to the rest of them, "I'll kill Fred! He was going on about wrestling a troll and all we have to do is try on some hat!"

Staros and Harry smiled wryly at him as other students who heard nodded or giggled quietly, many sharing similar thoughts about persons who had told them some other version of the same sorting horror story.

About this time, the blond girl had sat down on the stool with the hat on. After a moment's pause, the hat spoke again, "Hufflepuff!"

The table on the far right wearing yellow and rose trimmings started clapping as the girl took off the hat, replaced it, and went to join what must be the rest of her house. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar off to one side wave merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"Hufflepuff!" was the call again.

"Boot, Terry!"

"Ravenclaw!"

This time it was the table second from the left, next to the Hufflepuff table and wearing blue and silver trimmings that clapped with polite enthusiasm and welcomed their newest member.

"Broklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but the "Brown, Lavender" became the first Gryffindor, and the table to the far left wearing red with gold trimmings exploded with cheers. Staros noted the two Weasely twins amongst the table's students.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became the first Slytherin. The table just right of them, wearing green and silver trimmings, clapped and celebrated like the others, but with more restraint and decorum. Harry had heard so many bad things about Slytherin, and from where he stood, many of them looked rather unpleasant and somber.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"Hufflepuff!"

By this time, the first years had started to notice that the hat wasn't shouting at random. Some students were declared almost instantly, while others, such as "Finnigan, Seamus," took more time. In Finnigan's case, almost a whole minute before the cry of "Gryffindor!" went up.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Staros watched bemused as the girl, who had continued a running murmur of things she had read about in her books, ran forward and eagerly crammed the hat on her head. When the hat shouted "Gryffindor!" Ron groaned aloud.

Harry was becoming increasingly nervous, worried about his sorting. Remembering back in primary school and how people would always pick him last, either to avoid annoying Dudley or because he was scrawny and little good at sport, he started to wonder what would happen if he wasn't sorted at all. What if he just sat there with everyone staring until Professor McGonagall snapped the hat off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake? What would he do?

Staros noticed Harry's increasing nervousness, but not knowing the cause, could do little to help the poor boy. 'He's like any other first generation. I remember Kyle finding out about his magic last year. Scared him nearly to death. Took father ages to explain it to his secretary and her husband, all the while me and Kyle were in the back room with Carcerous showing off tricks to keep the boy calm. Harry's never known about magic he said. Looks like some of the others are feeling the same pressure.'

Neville Longbottom was called, toad in hand, he struggled up onto the stool and the hat was placed on his head. The hat took a long time with Neville, but finally shouted out, "Gryffindor!"

Everyone had a quiet laugh as Neville, smiling widely, nearly took the hat all the way to the house table before he realized it and sheepishly brought it back to Professor McGonagall to place on "MacDougal, Morag."

Draco swaggered up to the stool as his name was called and barely had the hat touched his head when it called out, "Slytherin!"

Draco joined Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table, looking all too pleased with himself.

"Marcus, Staros Aniken, Lord elect"

As Staros walked past Harry, he gave him a hopefully calming pat on the shoulder before walking up and taking his place on the stool. Several murmurs were heard about his name, many asking fellow classmates about the "Lord elect" thing and why he had been named fully instead of just first and last like others. The hat came down over his head and very odd feeling settled over him.

"My, my, what have we here?" came a voice in Staros' head.

"I assume you are the Sorting Hat?" Staros thought back.

"Yes, I am. I must say, we haven't had a titled Lord so young in a good long while. May I ask about the details?"

"Certainly," Staros replied before running through a short version of his naming, ascension, confirmation by the Queen, and his recent activities at the manor. During the recital, he could feel the hat sifting through his memories of the events and gaining greater detail, but not going off into areas Staros didn't describe. Suddenly, Staros was hit with a thought.

"You must be Alistair!"

The hat chuckled, "Yes, although I haven't been called that in a VERY long time. How did you hear of it? I was pretty sure everyone had forgotten my name."

"Grandfather told me about you. Plus some of our House portraits date back nearly to the founders and most everyone knew your name then."

"Ah, yes. Shame that the magical portraits were only just invented right before the founders passed. I never heard there were any done of them. I would have liked to have seen their influence on the school for these many years."

A little more idle chatter and the hat suddenly exclaimed, "What is this? I sense a strong magic in your mind! Explain yourself!"

"Alistair, this is a family secret. Tell anyone, and I swear upon my soul, I'll see you burned. You can see what I have, what it means. My family bears the weight of ages and we'll not have some hat tell us different. Swear to me that you won't say a word."

"What you carry is considered very dangerous, boy. Will it harm anyone here? Could it endanger the other students?"

"No. It has remained as it is now for three thousand years. There is no reason for that to change any time soon. I swear it, upon my magic."

"Very well, for now I shall remain quiet. The first sign of trouble, and I am telling the Headmaster, however. I cannot be party to anything that will endanger the school."

The whole conversation taking mere moments, but some few were surprised to see a brief flash that signified a magical oath being sworn. Professor McGonagall was facing the wrong way and didn't notice, but Professor Dumbledore did, as did Professor Snape and a couple of the students. Most didn't really see it, either facing away or at bad angles with the lighting. Dumbledore frowned for a moment, wondering what was the cause, while Snape's face remained as impassive as it had been all evening. Then the hat called, "Slytherin!"

Staros took off the hat and handed it to Professor McGonagall. Walking over to the Slytherin table, he noticed the look of hatred shot at him by Ron, but waved it off as a schoolyard rivalry thing and therefor unimportant. He waved to Harry, who waved meekly back, a look of nervous confusion on his face. Staros sat down at the table, across from Daphne and Tracey and some distance from Draco and pals, amidst congratulations and the muted clapping that had heralded other Slytherins.

"Moon, Lance" followed, then "Nott, Theodore"… "Parkinson, Pansy"… a pair of twins, "Patil"… "Perks, Sally-Anne"….

"Potter, Harry"

Harry jumped at his name being called. When Staros had been put in Slytherin, he had zoned out for a moment thinking about things he had been told about the house and what he knew about Staros. The other boy was polite and well mannered, but not stuck up; he was funny and had a sense of humor similar to Harry's and wasn't cruel; and he was the first person to talk to Harry his own age that didn't run away because of Dudley, or stare at him in awe like he'd seen some of the other students who knew his name did.

As he walked forward, he heard whispers break out all over the hall.

"Potter did she say?"

"THE Harry Potter?"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was a room full of people craning their necks to get a look at him. Next second, he was looking at the inside of the hat's brim wondering what would be next.

"Hmmm," said a voice in his head. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either, although you've been forced to keep low there. There's talent, plenty of talent, yes. I see a thirst to prove yourself, but a lack of solidarity. Hmmm, no real ties to others. Where to put you, I wonder? I don't suppose you'd mind if I go a bit deeper do you?"

Harry had no idea what this meant, but assumed the voice was the hat and it was looking over his mind. "Will you be looking at my memories?" he asked somewhat afraid of the things that might be seen, be found out.

The hat noticed the fear spike and worried about the cause. "Only if you let me," he replied. "By the way, my name is Alistair, young Harry. I sorted your father and mother you know." The hat was trying to be reassuring to the lad while skimming through the highlights of Harry's immediate memories.

"Well, ok then, I guess."

Alistair noted the lack of real trust in that statement and took it for face value. Diving deeper into Harry's memory, he skimmed over some of the things Harry let him see, noting the darker ones and fearing that the ones he wasn't allowed were worse. A few he was sure Harry didn't mean him to see. Then there was… something. Alistair didn't know how to describe it, but it sat off in one little corner of Harry's mind, just sitting there. Having already had one student carrying around something odd, and having seen many strange things over the centuries of Sortings, Alistair hesitantly prodded the "something." A few trickles of memory flowed from it, but they obviously weren't Harry's. Not knowing what else to do, and fearing causing damage, he worked with Harry's subconscious to seal that area away until Harry was older and could look into it on his own.

"Well, Harry, it seems Hufflepuff is out. You show the qualities for loyalty, but the lack of a trustful foundation to build on won't help you there. Any of the other three houses would take you and you could do quite well in them. What do you think?"

Harry was surprised that his opinion was asked, a first in all his years that he could remember. Thinking quickly, he went through all he knew about the houses, which wasn't much admittedly, but decided that Slytherin was probably a bad idea.

"Not Slytherin? Are you sure? You could be great you know, it's all right here in your head. Slytherin will help you to greatness, no doubt."

"No, I think everyone would freak out. Where were my parents sorted?"

"Your parents, eh? Your father and mother were both Gryffindor. I had a hard time with your mother. Her mind was so brilliant, I so wanted to put her in Ravenclaw. But her tenacity! Her drive and confidence! I couldn't let such qualities go to waste in the House of Knowledge."

"I think… I think I should go there. Follow their footsteps. I know so little about them."

Alistair could tell that his charge was on the verge of an emotional break from all the stress this day had put on him, plus this Sorting had taken enough time already.

"Ask to speak with me anytime you want and I'll tell you some things about your parents. Just let Headmaster Dumbledore know. In the meantime, I think you should go to… Gryffindor!" The last word was not in Harry's head, but shouted out for the whole hall to hear.

Harry shakily took the hat off and handed it back before walking over to the Gryffindor table. He was so distracted by the conversation with Alistair he hardly noticed how the Gryffindor's were clapping and carrying on more wildly that they had done for any other student. The Weasely twins were dancing a jig shouting, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Harry sat down opposite the ghost with the ruffles they had met earlier and was greeted with a ghostly pat on the shoulder, leaving him feeling as if someone had dropped him in a bucket of ice water. As he looked around, ne could see the head table better and noted Hagrid on the one end, Professor Quirrelll, still in his strange turban, whom he had met at the Leaky Cauldron, and he recognized Dumbledore from his chocolate frog card.

Looking over to the Slytherin table, Staros caught Harry's eye and raised a cup to him. Harry picked his up and raised it back, a wry smile on his face. Staros shrugged and smiled back before turning his attention back to the other students being sorted. There were several more, a "Thomas, Dean" who got sorted into Gryffindor was noteworthy as being the only black skinned student amongst the first years, plus being rather tall. A pretty little thing, "Turpin, Lisa" became a Ravenclaw. And then it was "Weasely, Ronald's" turn. Ron looked a bit green by this point, and walked rather unsteadily to the stool. After putting on the hat, Ron's Sorting was graced with the only other unique event amongst them all by being the only one the hat spoke aloud to, for all to hear.

"Another Weasley!" the hat said. "How many more are there of your family?"

"My sister, Ginny," squeaked Ron. "But she's too young!"

"Hah! So I'll see her another year. Very well, let's get in over with… Gryffindor!"

The look of relief on Ron's face quickly turned back into fear as Professor McGonagall had to nudge him off the stool and take the hat from him while he all but ran from her to the table and sat next to Harry.

A little while later, the Sorting was complete with "Zabini, Blaise" being the last student and made Slytherin. The Italian lad made his way over and sat next to Staros, nodding in reply to Staros' greeting and bowing slightly to Daphne and Tracey.

A few moments later, Professor McGonagall had taken her seat at the head table and Headmaster Dumbledore had risen from his. He was smiling as he walked to a small podium behind the table, looking quite pleased with the new students.


	9. Rules of Chance

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

Dumbledore sat back down and as he did so, food appeared almost unnoticed by all as most were still staring at the odd old man, especially the newer students, while clapping and cheering.

Staros shook himself, saw the food had arrived and looked about to see what the dinner protocol was. It seemed to primarily be a buffet style, serve yourself type of deal by the way the older students were digging in. As Staros began to load his plate with a few items he recognized, and a couple he thought looked try-able, he idly wondered about the Headmaster's introduction. Then it hit him and he had to laugh a bit.

Blaise turned to Staros and asked, "Something funny?"

"Oh, sorry. I just realized that the words the Headmaster said were in the New York Times, Word of the Day section this issue."

"What?" Blaise asked. Daphne and Tracey seemed to be listening in as well.

"Oh, right. Brits and magicals. Anyway, the Americans have a newspaper for covering just about everything from world events to local stuff to economics to editorials. Included are little joke sections and minor educational bits like the Word of the Day which gives lesser used words and their definitions as well as examples as to when to use them. And that's nothing compared to the crossword puzzles! Just a way of keeping the language alive in general usage and sometimes pretty interesting. I'm guessing the Headmaster has a subscription."

"Um, ok. If you say so," the boy said as he turned back to his meal. "Blaise Zabini, by the way."

He made this introduction as if they hadn't already met, so Staros decided to play along.

"Staros Marcus." Staros looked expectantly across the table at the two girls there.

With a slight sigh, Daphne spoke up. "Daphne Greengrass." She looked none too pleased at having to play out this particular charade.

"Tracey Davis."

Next to Staros, an older boy said, "Adrian Pucey, Quidditch chaser."

Others made their introductions up and down the table to the new students, Draco Malfoy seeming to take some offense that he was not the first one introduced. Light conversations began in earnest all up and down the table. Returning students spoke with friends about their summers, other students, classes, and speculation over the new students. The new arrivals mostly listened in and asked a few questions here and there as they were instructed in expectations of their house and some of their classes. Some family introductions were made with those unfamiliar with the details, in particular, Draco seemed to try and impress people with his father's position and influence.

Blaise looked at Staros and pointedly asked, "So, explain this Lord elect thing?"

Staros chuckled a bit. "Yeah, I knew that would cause a few heads to turn. Not really a story for dinner though. I promise to cover a few of the more relevant details tomorrow when all have time and some sleep. It's a long story."

"Fair enough."

"I'll hold you to that, Marcus," said Daphne. Staros just smiled at her and nodded.

After a while, dinner was completed, desserts had, and the dishes vanished, Dumbledore got to his feet and went to the podium again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem, just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore seemed to be looking straight at the Weasley twins as he said this last bit, leaving little doubt as to whom he was speaking.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic shold be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madame Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." The last statement brought a few quiet laughs that died quickly as the ones laughing realized from everyone else that he might actually be serious.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Even as new as they were, the first years could all see how the smiles that many professors showed had now become rather forced looking, with a couple of actual grimaces and one somber look of dread from a dark haired man on the far end of the table.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!"

Staros looked around rather confused, noting he was not the only one, but of only a few and just followed along with those closest to him. The students all began to sing, if that was what it could be called, to different tunes and rhythms;

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something, please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot._

Everybody finished the song at different times. At the last, only the Weasely twins were left, singing along to a slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! Now, off you trot!"

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Staros looked about and saw other first years being gathered up by a pair of older students.

"We're the prefects assigned to bring you all to the dorms. I'm Gemma Farley and this is Graham Montague. Follow us and do try and keep up."

With this, she turned and the two of them strode out of the hall. The first years all hurried to keep up. During the trip to the dorms, the two prefects went over a lot of details about Hogwarts castle including the moving staircases, the occasional disappearing steps, areas to avoid like the Gryffindor tower, and the overall general layout of the castle proper.

Knowing he would never remember it all for now, Staros stuck to the highlights while keeping his eyes on both the scenery around him and the group in general so as not to get lost. A few ghosts floated about here and there; several magical portraits welcomed the new students, some following along to politely converse with certain people they knew; various suits of armor were seen standing at attention everywhere.

As they descended into the dungeons of the castle, they met with few incidents. One involved a student tripping over a disappearing step which brought a few laughs as he was helped out and the other was Peeves, the resident poltergeist, fleeing through the castle corridors wailing about unfair and mean children. Spotting them, he pelted the group with several odd sounding limericks and catcalls, but the prefects simply stared him down and casually mentioned the Bloody Baron being the house ghost. Peeves looked a little scared for a moment before fleeing through another wall and disappearing.

Eventually, the group came to a large T shaped intersection from which they entered from the base. Directly ahead of them were two silken tapestries depicting the Slytherin snake banner to either side of a large portrait of a dignified middle-aged woman sitting regally in a simple chair.

"This is Eliza vonGraff, Slytherin House of 1386," said Gemma. "Her portrait was installed here in 1415 after she discovered a specialized use for doxies, one that has since been banned by the Ministry, but her accomplishment is still recognized as important in the research of magic. She is our guardian portrait and the doorway to the Slytherin dorms. Each house has a similar doorway and you can't enter any of them without the password. Do NOT give this password out to anyone, even fellow housemates who claim to have forgotten it. If you find anyone standing out here trying to enter, get our head of house or a prefect. We shall assist any of our house and determine if any other should be allowed to visit. This week's password is Blood of Blood. Do not forget it."

With the statement of the password, the woman in the portrait nodded once and the entire frame swung outward revealing an archway and passage. Ushering the first years through the door, the prefects followed them in and gathered them in what must be the common room. It was through the center of the long side of the room they entered from. At either end were small fireplaces while the opposite wall contained a larger fireplace and four archways with passages leading out.

At this point, Graham took over. "This is our common room. Those halls over to the right are the boys' dorms, the left, girls'. While there are no special wards preventing visitation between the dorms, the individual rooms are warded against casual entry. You can only enter another's room with permission from one of the residents. First and second years are roomed four to a dorm, third through fifth, two and the final two years get single rooms."

Staros looked around while Graham was covering all of this. The common area was done quite nicely in a deep emerald green on top, a dark wood paneling he didn't recognize on the lower half. The room contained about a dozen couches in various positions, three each arranged in a U shape in front of the two small fireplaces set on opposite sides of the room. About two dozen other chairs were set in small groups spaced out to give any one group a bit of privacy from others. Along the outside walls were spaced another two dozen or so individual studying desks with simple straight backed chairs. The whole room was lit by soft lights hovering at each group of chairs or on either end of the couches creating pools of light around each set but not overwhelming the room overall. A couple of large chandeliers hung overhead but were unlit and were probably for times when the furniture was cleared or otherwise needed additional light. Staros thought it looked very nice and decided that he would steal the effect for his study in the manor.

About then, Gemma took back over, "While we wait for our head of house to show and deliver his own introduction, let's cover the most often asked questions. Yes, these are dungeons so yes, each room was once a cell or torture chamber or room for guards. No, the implements of those times are not present, nor are there any lingering ghosts or other magical effects. The old lock down wards are still present in case of emergencies, but that's not anything for you to worry about."

"Well, unless there is an emergency at any rate," piped up Graham with a rather evil looking smile. Gemma just rolled her eyes at his dramatics causing a few chuckles.

"Just stay here and out of trouble while we wait," she said. "Any questions can wait until tomorrow."

The students dispersed to look around the room while waiting on their head, some sitting and chatting together, others just wandering around looking over the trophies, books, and displays. Staros sat in one of the large chairs and was surprised when Blaise, Daphne and Tracey sat next to him. Looking around, he noticed what appeared to be small clicks forming already. Draco with Crabbe and Goyle was holding court with a few people he seemed to know while a couple other small groups were off on their own as well. Older students began to trickle in as they waited; most heading right to the dorms, but some seating themselves at study desks or joining some of the groups to greet associates.

Staros sat back in silence and his little groups seemed content to follow his example as they waited. About twenty minutes later, a previously unseen door to one end of the room opened up and in strode a dark haired man with a hook nose and pale complexion. His robes billowed out quite dramatically as he moved smoothly over the floor. The way he moved commanded attention and it was obviously the product of both carefully cultivated practice plus a natural ability toward theatrics. Following behind him were two older students, probably seventh years and more than likely the head boy and girl for the house.

The older male student spoke up, "I'm Fitzroy Rosier, your seventh year prefect, now get into lines first years in front, seventh in back, prefects on the ends." They lined up in straight lines Staros was standing next Daphne who was next to him on the right, while Blaise was next to him on the left. Next to Daphne stood Tracey, next to Tracey were the other first years.

Everyone quieted and stood back up, gathering around in front of him as he made it to the center of the room. He looked across them all with a calculated look, as if judging them all on some unknown merit, with few meeting whatever standard he held them to.

"Good Evening, for all those second year and above welcome back, to all first years, welcome to Slytherin house." He spoke in silky tones. He looked into each of the first year's eyes he continued, "I will not lie to you, now that you've been sorted into Slytherin the majority of the school considers you to be dark and will look down on you. Because of this at times I will show Slytherin favor over the other houses particularly Gryffindor, but make no mistake I will punish you if you deserve it later. Now we have one rule here in Slytherin, stick together. First thru third years make sure you are in a group whenever you leave. For the first few days an older student will be escorting first years to their classes. I will be meeting with all individuals one on one throughout the first week of school. I've appointed Fitzroy and Hayden as head boy and girl within Slytherin they have authority second to mine. Now I'll turn the rest of this meeting over to them to instruct the first years. Goodnight." And with that he departed.

Fitzroy and a red-headed girl motioned the first years over to the couches in the middle of the room. When they had all sat down the red-head started with, "I'm Hayden Lennox welcome to Slytherin. Now like Professor Snape said one of the older students will escort you until you get the ropes."

The following half hour was filled with the various basic school rules, directions to the first years' classes, a few well timed jokes, and a short general Q&A session. During this time, it was stressed that Professor Snape was not kidding about staying in groups and the dangers of some of the more hot-headed members of other houses finding a Slytherin alone in the corridors. His other main point about keeping house issues within the house was also covered in detail, with some rather pointed examples, including Pucey's own admission to a couple of times he let his emotions control his actions rather than deal with things properly. With a personal example laid out, everyone was much more impressed to keep things in the house. The last thing that was assured was that everyone was familiar with and could cast both the _**Tempus**_ and _**Concutio**_, or time and alarm, charms.

Finally, it was time to head off to bed. Staros bid Daphne and Tracey a good night, nodded to some other acquaintances he had been introduced to, and followed Blaise to the boys' dorms to find their rooms. As it happened, they shared the same room with Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott. Realizing that Draco's attitude will probably be an issue, Staros just shrugged and decided that he would deal with the arrogant ass when the time came. No one noticed Carcerous as he moved around the room and secured all of Staros' things, never actually moving anything so as to not give away his position, like a good elf should. Staros acknowledged his efforts with a brief nod before changing and climbing into bed. Saying goodnight to the others and pulling the curtains shut, he noticed the sound dampening charms placed on them cutting out the quiet conversations Draco was having with Blaise and Theodore. Tomorrow promised to be a long day.


	10. Chance Beginnings

Staros couldn't have been so far from the truth as to actually round the globe and meet it again as it appeared to be the next day. Long didn't describe the reality of it all. Chaos was a minor footnote in the day as the first year students all got up, or were woken up in varying levels of rudeness by their housemates. Clashes over bathroom time, clothing, gathering of books and familiars, and general hubbub reigned supreme in all four houses, Slytherin's being as bad as the others though they would never admit it. Then they started classes.

The advice to stick together in groups was perhaps one of the wisest things that any Slytherin would remember about Professor Snape, and certainly, the only fond memory most would ever have of the harsh man. Being together helped avoid being too late to classes as one of their number usually always remembered the way. The resident poltergeist, Peeves, generally stayed away from the Slytherins, but they still had to threaten him once or twice with the Baron's presence, disturbing as it was. By far, the worst thing encountered by any student of any house was most assuredly Mr. Filch. The old, cantankerous caretaker of the castle would spring out of nowhere to see if students were misbehaving. While it was a tiny bit amusing to see him hovering like the angel of death over students of other houses, the Slytherins also felt it necessary to help their classmates in a roundabout way by making sure the caretaker could never catch anyone completely alone or without a teacher nearby. Few would ever guess at this 'protection' afforded to them by the suggestions of Professor Snape who despised Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris.

Staros was pleasantly surprised by several of his classes, and horribly disturbed by others. For some strange reason, it was decided that Astronomy should be taught on Wednesday nights for all first years and students have Thursday mornings completely free so as to recover from the late hours. He felt that Friday would have made more sense for this scheduling.

Herbology was with a sprightly, albeit plump, witch named Pomona Sprout. She knew her gardens well and Staros looked forward to learning more of the magical plants native to Europe. That this class was also taken with the Ravenclaws meant that the amount of information would be as detailed as one could get.

Professor Sprout started the class off with an introduction to the tools they would be using throughout the coming years.

"Proper care of one's tools is fundamental to the proper care of a garden," she started out. "Some of the plants we will be dealing with require certain tools made of particular material to be harvested in a usable manner. Examples include holly which is best cut with a silver sickle, preferably during a full or new moon and mandrakes, requiring the use of sound deadening devices in order to be able to harvest them at all."

The class promised to be quite interesting and possibly fun.

Charms was taught by a short man of not quite human ancestry. Professor Flitwick was a master duelist and held several Charms degrees from a number of prestigious organizations. While his size made him appear rather comical, needing to stand on a stack of books to see over his desk for example, his skill left no doubt as to his ability to teach.

"We won't be covering much actual usage of magic the first couple of weeks, but let me demonstrate what charms can accomplish," the little man said from atop his pile of books. Waving his wand in a careful fashion and without any vocalizations, various things around the room lit up like Christmas ornaments, sprouted birds' wings and flew, produced bubbles, or turned invisible. The awe felt by many of the students was palpable before he called them back to Earth and began lecturing on the reasons for proper wand movements and correct intonations.

History of Magic was, is, and probably always would be the single most useless class of Staros' school career. While some might remind others that history and knowledge of it was important to prevent repeats of the worst cases, a class taught by a ghost was almost as interesting as watching rocks succumb to entropy. Staros barely managed to remain awake and was happy to note that many other students had fallen far short of the attempt, some falling asleep after only twenty minutes.

It had started out pretty much like any other history class, or any class for that matter. The students all filed in, roll was taken, and then Professor Binns started to lecture. That was when things went downhill. During roll it was obvious that he lacked any kind of personality and droned like a dozen bees trapped in a tin can and barely waited for a response, but the lectures were much, much worse.

"Welcome to History of Magic, I am Professor Binns. Today and through the next few weeks we shall be discussing the influences of the Greeks on modern magic. The earliest known records of magical devices started with the Greeks as well as the first known Dark Lord, known as Herpo the Foul, which some muggle-born may recognize as Hades."

At this point, a couple of students had raised their hands, whether to ask a question or to point out that, as a ghost, he could not hold chalk and his pantomimed writing on the blackboard was producing no letters, was unclear since he never acknowledged them. It was obvious to Staros and probably several others that Professor Binns was a very basic ghost, devoid of much actual thought, mainly like a recording of what he did in his life. While possibly useful from an anthropological viewpoint, as an instructor, he was less than useful.

Transfiguration was the first class Slytherin shared with Gryffindor and the first chance Staros had to speak with Harry and Ron since the Sorting. Breakfast was often too rushed for any real chance to exchange more than a few words in greeting, plus Ron's table manners caused more than a few other students to lose their appetites. Everyone except for Blaise, who had developed a fascination with watching Ron devour whole platters of food as if he had never eaten his entire life, much like some who work with crime scenes or the dead become fascinated with the beauty of the setting or the particular way in which nature disposed of remains.

"Hi guys. How's things so far?" Staros asked.

Ron gave him a rather pointed look and asked, "Why are you over here talking to us? You wouldn't want the other snakes to get the wrong idea would you?"

Harry sighed and Staros just looked at Ron. "Ron, leave off will you?" Harry said finally.

Mumbling to himself, Ron made his way over to the desk he would likely share with Harry since it seemed that the houses rarely mixed company.

"I wonder what his deal is," Staros said. "Anyways, how's it been Harry? Classes are pretty different than what we're used to, eh?"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, primary school didn't exactly prepare me for this. I can write better than most so taking notes isn't so bad, but the topics are a different matter."

"I know. I went to both a mundane elementary school as well as taking tutored magic classes growing up. I might know more magic than you, but the stuff they teach here is so totally wild. Looks like teach is in. Catch you in the library sometime all right?"

"Sure," replied Harry, sitting down next to Ron who had continued to glare at Staros as he made his way over to the table he shared with Draco, not out of preference, but out of necessity, him being the only other lone student without a partner left.

Professor McGonagall was the Transfiguration instructor. As they had already thought, she was a stern woman who tolerated no shenanigans in her presence.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she started the class with. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

With this, she turned and transformed her desk into a pig and back again. She seemed pleased at the excitement that display created, but they were definitely not up to that level nor would be any time soon. After a lengthy speech on the mechanics of Transfiguration, a great deal of note taking, and a couple smaller demonstrations, they were each given a matchstick and told to turn it into a needle. Only Hermione made any progress the first day, managing to make her match pointy and silver in color.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught by a rather unimpressive, mousy kind of man named Professor Quirrell. To say the class was useless was a kindness. The man had them reading from the textbook, in itself not a bad thing, but he answered no questions completely and never demonstrated anything they were supposed to learn. In all, it was a thoroughly disappointing class.

Staros was also a bit irritated about the content of the classes. Having already skimmed the textbooks and noting some topics missing, he was hoping for more revealing information in classes. So far, he was having no luck at all. Deciding to put that aside for now, it was only the beginning of the year after all; he set his sights on the next Gryffindor-Slytherin class, double potions on Friday.

Having already dealt with some of the rumors and later confirmations of some of those same rumors, Staros already knew that the potions class was going to be rather… stressful. Apparently, according to several Ravenclaws he had encountered in the library, Professor Snape was more than a little biased towards the Slytherins, especially in any class in which both they and Gryffindors were present. Staros had already seen a few examples of this form of unfairness in the halls, primarily Professor Snape coming down harder on Gryffindors and a few Hufflepuffs than anyone else. When he asked the Slytherin prefects about it, he was told that because of the extreme prejudice against their house, Professor Snape felt that the bias was warranted despite the fact that some agreed that it didn't help their image much.

Since the potions class was in the dungeons, which seemed odd for some reason he couldn't quite figure out, the Slytherins were able to get to class with plenty of time to spare. Staros looked around at the layout of the classroom, noting the theatre style of tiers, and decided that a table towards the back of the room was best. This way, he could see everything clearly, including anyone who might be making their potions a little better than himself, or, more importantly, much worse and be a threat. He also made sure his table was closer to the door, allowing more light, air, and an escape route if needed.

While the Slytherins tended to group together, they were spread out far enough, almost all of them taking seats in the upper tiers like Staros that Draco, with attendant cronies, was on the far side of the room from Staros. This was more than acceptable as Draco's constant spiel about his father's importance was already wearing thin and it was only the first week of school. If the boy didn't cool it, Staros was going to have a 'chat' with him soon about what they did with braggarts in L.A., especially braggarts who couldn't back it up on their own.

As Staros was starting to pull out and assemble his alchemy kit, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Mind if I sit here with you?" asked Blaise. "And where did you get that potions kit? It's nothing like the one I picked up."

"Yes, tell us about it," said another voice on the other side of Staros. Turning, he saw Daphne and Tracey sitting at the table next to him.

"Sure, Blaise. Take a seat," Staros replied, smiling. "As for the kit, I had most of my basic school stuff bought when I left New York instead of getting it here. At the time, it was more because I already had access to my family's Gringotts accounts in the US and I wasn't sure about the status of our British accounts. This kit is one of the better ones made by the Flamel Brothers on Fifth Avenue. There's a whole line of parallel streets in New York, mundane right next to magical and no one really notices."

"Seems more complete than ours," said Blaise, pulling out his own kit and setting it up, all the while looking back and forth, comparing the two assemblies.

"Well, in the US, we have several cross-cultural inventions. One of the major helps to magicals is the wonderfully exact requirements of science. Chemistry requires things to be so much more exact than magic does that we started using their equipment for a lot of our potions stuff. At least, that's what the store guy told me about it."

Daphne just flipped her hair behind her and said, "We'll see," before setting up her own kit.

About this time, the Gryffindors were marshaling in. Seeing the Slytherins already in their seats, the Gryffindors were forced to take the lower tiers, several grumbling about how that meant they would be closer to the front and therefor Professor Snape. Seeing Harry and Ron walk in, Staros said Hi to them. Harry nodded back, but Ron just glared before taking a seat next to Harry. Frowning, Staros again wondered what that kid's issue was.

Staros also greeted a couple of the other students he had met on the train, namely Neville and Hermione, the two of which decided to sit just below Staros' table. It seemed the center row of tables was unpopular amongst either group as Staros with Blaise and Hermione with Neville were the only students to take them on purpose.

A few minutes after everyone had shuffled into place and most had set up their kits, Professor Snape suddenly burst through the door, stalked rather quickly down the center, turned and waved his hand at the door, which slammed shut causing everyone to jump and silencing what little conversation there was. Everyone made sure to face forward and focus on Professor Snape.

'That's one way to get our attention,' thought Staros. 'Man's got style, give him that.'

Pulling a scroll from his robe pocket, Snape began by taking roll. As he reached Staros' name, he looked up and stared right at him. "Lord Marcus. Please don't think a title means much in here. This is not a subject that favors politics."

"Yes sir," said Staros a little nervously. Similar things had been said by most of the other professors, but Snape was able to just drill it into you with that look. 'Damn, this guy should be in Hollywood!'

As he continued, Snape reached Harry's name and paused, looking at that boy as well.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity."

A few sniggers could be heard from around the room, mostly Slytherins, while Staros just rolled his eyes. 'Harry's not exactly Halle Berry or Tom Cruise. Barely a celebrity,' he thought.

Professor Snape finished the roll call, placed the scroll onto his desk, and stalked back towards the center of the room.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. After his entrance, the silence that reigned made his soft voice carry to every corner. While McGonagall's stern presence kept the class quiet and focused, the dramatic flair and dark looks Snape managed caused the same effect. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect any of you to really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death. If you aren't the usual dunderheads I usually have to teach."

Glaring around the room as if in judgment over all, Snape noted which students paid more attention than others during his speech. Disappointingly, barely half the Slytherins gave him the attention he expected, a matter that will be resolved later in a house meeting. Surprisingly, though he was careful not to show it, several of the Gryffindor students had paid quite close attention. It seemed one was even taking notes on a mere introduction. Noting the girl, 'Granger wasn't it?' he wondered how well she would do in the class. But first…


	11. Chance Mixture

"Potter!" Snape spun suddenly, snapping at the boy. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Snape noted the girl taking notes had shot her hand up. 'Interesting that she thinks she knows the answer,' he thought. 'Perhaps not all is lost on the House of the Brave. I shall inquire about her later.'

Harry in the meantime was looking confused and sat looking like a deer in headlights for a few seconds before saying, "I don't know, sir."

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut… fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would I look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

The girl, yes it was Granger, once again shot her hand up. Draco was starting to laugh a little louder than was proper, his two cronies laughing with him, but obviously not knowing exactly why. A few of the other students were also quietly chuckling at the boy's expense. Staros was frowning, however, wondering why Professor Snape was singling out Harry.

'Must be a house rivalry thing,' Staros thought, shrugging.

"I don't know, sir," Harry replied, looking rather lost.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter? Last chance. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this point, the over eager Hermione was practically standing out of her seat trying to raise he hand even further. Snape was mildly amused at her antics but let nothing show on his face as he stared down at Potter.

Harry was about to answer that he didn't know again when something tickled the back of his mind. Something about gardening. Something he had dealt with for Aunt Petunia's garden. Something… a clerk had said once when picking out a new bed of flowers for the front wall. What? Then it clicked.

"They're the same plant, sir. They're in the same family as buttercups, but are violet to dark blue depending on the strain you pick."

Snape was surprised. A brief flicker of it even showed as he didn't expect anything remotely close to a proper answer.

"Indeed," he said darkly. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood are part of a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As to the last, you are correct, they are the same plant, also known as aconite or Devil's Helmet. Well? Why are you not all writing this down?"

Only Hermione was not immediately shuffling parchment and quills as she had somehow managed to take notes the entire time, even while half standing.

"Two points from Gryffindor for not knowing basic information, Potter."

Things went downhill for the Gryffindors the rest of the class. With a wave of his wand, Snape had directions appear on the blackboard for a simple boil cure potion. Telling them all to get to work, he swept around the room, always managing to make his cloak billow threateningly while keeping it out of harm's way near the cauldron fires or potion ingredients. Quite a unique talent actually.

As he watched them weigh nettles and crush snake fangs, he spent a great deal of time criticizing the majority of the students' efforts, saving some little praise for Draco mostly, but a few words were thrown to other Slytherin students, but never a Griffindor. Stepping up to Staros' table and noting the very different alchemy kit, he frowned slightly and asked Staros to see him after class about it.

A little while later, Snape was telling everyone to look at how Draco had perfectly stewed his horned slugs when a loud hissing started. Looking around, Staros saw clouds of acid green smoke rising from Neville and Hermione's cauldron, which was melting into a puddle of unrecognizable goo. The potion itself was seeping off the table and onto the floor making acidic hissing sounds and causing Hermione's shoes to burn. She quickly backed away and Staros pushed the classroom door open to let in fresh air. Neville appeared to have gotten splashed with the potion during this and was whimpering at the painful looking red welts and boils that appeared on his arms and legs where the potion had eaten through his clothing. Everyone below them in the ooze's path moved back or climbed their stools.

"Idiot boy!" Professor Snape snarled while waving his wand at the mess, clearing the potion before it could do more harm. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville shakily nodded at the frightening man before him while holding his arm and continuing to whimper in pain.

With a disgusted look Snape waved at Hermione and Neville, "Take him to the hospital wing, now!"

Class being more or less over at that point, Snape had everyone turn in what they had accomplished so far, telling them to mark on their labels what step they had reached so he could properly evaluate their progress, and then dismissed them. As the Gryffindors were all practically running out the door, none of them caught the last minute assignment Snape gave out as homework over the weekend.

Staros packed up his things and waited until everyone had left, Daphne giving him a questioning look to which he nodded to her unasked question a promise of disclosure later. Once everyone was gone, Staros walked to the front of the class to find what his Head of House wanted.

"Yes, Marcus, I wished to inquire about your potions kit. It is of a rather high quality, one usually reserved for specialized work, not school. Where did you get it?"

"I picked it up from the Flammel Brothers alchemy shop, Fifth Avenue, New York, sir. They specialize in high grade potions and alchemy equipment and supplies. It's not one of the larger sets, but I wanted something likely to be of use for my entire school career rather than buy new equipment every year. Is it a problem, sir?"

Snape looked at the boy impassively, no sign of what he might be thinking showing on his face. A few seconds went by before he replied, "No, it's perfectly usable for your time here. I'm glad you put more thought into your equipment than most of the students I see. I may wish to examine it in greater detail sometime in the future as I noted a few things that make me wonder about the quality of a few of my own pieces."

Staros smiled at him. "Certainly, sir. Anytime," he said. "Is that all? I really need to head out to lunch before my next class."

"Yes, yes. Off with you," Snape said, waving Staros away.

Arriving a little late to lunch, Staros walked over to the Gryffindor table, earning a few odd looks and one nasty glare from Ron. He was just getting to Ron and Harry as he overheard something about visiting Hagrid.

Stopping next to Harry, Staros said, "Sorry about the class, Harry. I think Professor Snape might push this house competition a bit far."

Harry looked up at Staros with a twisted grin, "No worries. Not your fault. I wish I knew why he hated me though. Anyway, me and Ron are gonna see Hagrid later, wanna come?"

Ron looked like someone had just kicked his favorite puppy.

"Sure. And Ron, don't worry. I'll try not to let the snakes think we're friends or anything."

Ron just glared and turned back to his lunch, determinedly ignoring Staros. Harry shook his head, wondering what was up with these two.

Agreeing to meet the two of them later at the front gate, Staros went back to the Slytherin table and sat down next to Blaise who was again watching in sick fascination as Ron put food into his mouth in ever increasing amounts. Shaking his head at Blaise's hobby, Staros turned to Daphne and Tracey.

"So girls, how's the first week been for you?" asked Staros. "I'm a bit confused as to how you Brits do things, but the coursework seems to be about as expected."

Daphne looked slightly offended at the "Brits" comment, but answered in her usual regal manner, "I suppose the enlightened customs of our society are a little overwhelming for one of you colonials. We've been fine, thank you for asking. After all. It is only the first week, things will get progressively harder as the year goes by."

"Too true, too true. Have you given any thought to the homework Professor McGonagall assigned?"

Tracey just smirked and said, "My parents already sent me a letter with some tips for transfiguration. If you're really, really nice, I might just show it to you."

"For what price are these valuable tips to be purchased, milady?"

Tracey giggled but turned to Daphne instead of replying herself.

"I think we can come to a suitable arrangement, Marcus," said Daphne with a smirk of her own. "Also, you have yet to properly explain your title, as promised."

Staros was left with a cold feeling about the price she could come up with, but nodded at her anyway.

"Right, well it's like this…" Staros began. He told them about his family's exile, his confirmation by the Queen, and a bit about his family lands. A brief mention of Carcerous and the need to hire his own elves and workers for the renovations brought an offer from Blaise to owl his mother about decorators and Tracey mentioned her father had a side business in grounds works. Staros thanked them both for their offers and continued to explain how he was only considered a "Lord elect" until his actual eleventh birthday, which was later that September, making him one of the very few exceptions to the rule of Hogwarts only allowing those who were eleven and above to attend.

After lunch was finished, Staros nudged Blaise to break his trance and left the table, bowing slightly to Tracey and Daphne. 'Dad always said be politest to the ladies and anyone with a gun to your head.'

Staros headed to the library to do a little research on his homework before meeting Harry and Ron. Upon entering, he saw several tables already occupied by a large number of Ravenclaws, and a few of the upper classes from every house. Seeing one table with only a single occupant, Staros was pleasantly surprised to recognize Hermione. Settling down across from her, he broke out his potions essay that had been assigned to replace the potion that would normally have been their grade, but for Neville's mishap.

It was several minutes of work before Hermione noticed she had company. Looking up and seeing a Slytherin disturbed her at first before she noticed it was Staros. He had been rather polite to her and was currently working quietly rather than being a pest. Seeing that he had his potions book out, she wondered about what he was working on since she didn't remember any potions assignments being made.

Frowning, she asked, "Are you working ahead, Staros?"

"Hmm? What?" was his elegant reply. "Oh, no. This is the homework assigned since Neville's accident kinda stopped class. Why?"

"I didn't know about that. When was it assigned?"

"Oh, that's right. You and most of the other Gryffindors had left by that time. Anyway, here's a bit on the assignment, just a foot parchment on the potion we were working on. Seriously, parchment? And the work measured in inches and feet? If I write big enough words, I could get a foot out of a title easily. I think they need some help from the Board of Education. Oh, do the British have a Board like we do in America?"

Hermione smiled a bit at the parchment and measurement quip.

"Yes, we do. Thanks for the assignment. I wouldn't want to miss out on my grades simply from an honest mistake."

Staros and Hermione worked a little longer on their respective assignments before Staros had to leave to meet up with Harry and Ron. Excusing himself, he made his way towards the front gate.

As he approached the front gate, Staros saw Ron and Harry already there and hunched together in what looked to be a quiet but heated argument. Getting closer he heard a few words and caught a couple phrases that indicated the argument must be about him.

"Honestly, Ron, he's never been anything but polite to us. Give it a rest," said Harry.

"Slimy snake's probably just trying to figure out the best way to stab us in the back," Ron replied.

Stepping into their line of sight, Staros said, "I promise, Ron, if there's going to be any stabbing involved, I'll do it to your face. How's that?"

Harry looked embarrassed to have been caught arguing about him, but Ron just stared at him with a look of pure hatred. Sighing, Staros just ignored it as a little kid thing. 'Dad said there'd be a few in every crowd back in elementary school. Guess it's the same everywhere.'

"Anyways, let's go see Hagrid. I want to hear about some of the animals that are supposed to be in the forest."

Cheering up at the prospect of seeing his large friend, Harry smiled in agreement and the three headed off down the path towards Hagrid's hut. Ron walked a bit behind the other two, still upset over Staros' inclusion in the little jaunt. While they walked, Staros told Harry and Ron about the assignment Professor Snape had given to replace the potions grade for the interrupted class and that they should see Hermione for more details having already given it to her.

Arriving at Hagrid's hut, Harry knocked on the door only to have all three of them jump as a loud woofing bark came from just the other side of the door.

"Back, Fang, back!" came Hagrid's voice along with some sounds indicating a large something being dragged back from the door. A few moments later, the door opened and before Hagrid could grab him again, a large black boarhound leapt out and tackled Harry to the ground.

"Fang! Blast you, get off da' boy!" Hagrid shouted while trying to pull the dog back all the while Fang was slobbering and licking Harry like his long lost cousin.

"Ha, ha ha… " Ron and Staros were in stitches, laughing at Harry's predicament. At least, until Ron saw Staros was laughing with him and tried very hard to look offended which only made Staros laugh harder. Finally getting the dog off Harry and Harry standing again, they all entered Hagrid's hut.

The roundish square building had only a single room with a large bed covered by a homemade quilt on one side. Set in a cavernous fireplace was a copper kettle just starting to boil. Hams and pheasants hung from the ceilings as well as large numbers of bits of spider silk, tufts of long hairs, and various other bits of creatures that probably wandered the Forbidden Forest. A small bookcase held a few books and a couple of boxes next to the door and a massive crossbow hung over the fireplace. In the middle of the room were a rather plain, rough table and two chairs.

Hagrid sat down on his bed and pulled out a few mismatched cups. Pulling the kettle from the fire, he began to pour water into a large teapot. "Sit, make yerselves a'home," he said. Seeing that he only had two chairs and three guests, he kicked a box from the edge of his bed over to the table. Staros nodded to him and sat on the box, giving the chairs up to Harry and Ron. Ron, of course, sat on the far side of the table from Staros, uncomfortably close to the fire.

"Hi, Hagrid. You remember Ron and Staros from the train, right?" said Harry.

"Another Weasley, eh? Hope yer ain't gonna be as much hassle as yer brothers. I spend half me year chasin' those two outta the forest." Hagrid shoved a plate of rock cakes towards the boys. Staros picked one up politely and tried it. True to its name, it was hard as its namesake, but he was able to pick some raisins out of it to eat. Harry was doing the same.

All three boys accepted a mug or cup of tea with their cakes. Ron almost lost a tooth to one of the cakes when he tried biting into it without any thought to the name they were given. Harry tried dunking his into his tea to soften it but was rather unsuccessful.

Despite his Slytherin house, Hagrid seemed to accept Staros as just another student while they all told stories about their first classes. The boys were delighted to hear about previous years' incidents and happenings as well as a few tips on how to get about the castle a little faster. They were also entertained by his stories about Filch and his cat.

"He's a right strange ol' git he is. Been here as far back as I ken remember, just as old and sour then too. An' as fer his cat, I'd like to introduce her to Fang sometime if he wasn't sucha bloody coward. D'yeh know, every time I go up to the school, she follows me everywhere? Pretty sure Filch puts her up to it."

A while later, Harry related his fears about Snape's lesson. Hagrid told him he shouldn't worry about it, Snape was a professor but didn't really like anyone.

"But he really seemed to hate me." Harry said, looking a bit lost.

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

"I don't know, Hagrid. Professor Snape does seem to take this house rivalry thing a bit far," said Staros. "But as to him hating you, Harry, I don't see it going that far either. Maybe him singling you out was just because you're the poster child for Gryffindor right now. I wouldn't call you a celebrity though since you're not exactly Leonardo DiCaprio or anything."

Harry didn't look any happier about that assessment, but conceded that Staros might be right. Ron looked confused and asked who Leonardo was, which led to a minor discussion about acting and a little about movies. Ron and Hagrid seemed a bit skeptical about the idea of moving pictures that weren't magical, but accepted the acting part since they both knew what a play was.

While the talk of movies was interesting, Harry didn't have much to contribute since he hadn't seen much more than what had shown on television, and usually not much of that. While Staros was describing theatres, Harry looked down to realize that his cup coaster was actually a piece of newspaper. The headline of the article caught his attention.

**Gringotts Break-In Latest!**

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing was stolen as the vault in question had been emptied earlier that day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you!" said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

Harry remembered Ron telling them about a break-in, but they never asked when it happened.

"Hey, Hagrid. That break-in at Gringotts happened on my birthday! We might have been there while it was happening!" Harry noticed that Hagrid seemed unhappy about this and wouldn't meet Harry's eyes.

"Blimey!" was all Ron had to say to that.

"Wow, you guys are lucky you weren't caught up in the robbery. We get occasional robberies in the States and there's always hostages, long drawn out negotiations, but in the end, someone always gets hurt, and not always the bad guys," Staros said.

Hagrid just grunted and a little bit later said they had better get back if they wanted to get to dinner on time. As the three of them walked back, Ron seemed to forget, just for a while, that Staros was a Slytherin as they talked about classes, famous bank robberies in the US, and what to do with the rock cakes they had been too polite to refuse but couldn't eat. Once back at the castle, however, Ron seemed to realize he'd been almost friendly with a snake and turned cold again, much to Harry's annoyance. Staros just shrugged it off, bid them farewell and went off to join Blaise, Daphne and Tracey as always.

Sitting down to the table, Daphne looked over at Staros, "Getting awfully friendly with those two Gryffindors aren't you? Our house isn't known for outward displays like that. You may wish to limit your contact."

"Ah, my dear," replied Staros, "it's all part of my cunning plan, you see. I gain their trust, learn their secrets, and then take over the world!"

Tracey snorted while Daphne just rolled her eyes.

"Well, this week you might want to keep your Gryffindor leanings to yourself. We have flying lessons with them on Thursday according to Professor Snape. He found out about it early and wanted to give us fair warning," said Blaise.

"All right, all right," said Staros. "Give it a rest will you?"

"So what did Professor Snape want to see you for?" asked Daphne.

"Oh, right, that," Staros mumbled. "Anyways, he was just interested in my alchemy kit. Said he wants to look it over and compare notes on his own lab equipment and see if I have anything he might want to look into. Apparently, a lot of the tools here in Europe aren't up to his exacting standards."

"Well, he is a Potions Master," said Daphne. "This could also be a good way for you to get on his good side. Maybe he'll show you some things with potions not normally taught in Hogwarts. You WILL remember to show us anything he teaches you, right?"

"Um, ok," said Staros, looking a little scared of the small blonde girl staring icily at him.

"Excellent." She turned her attention back to her meal. Tracey just smiled at him.


	12. Flights of Chance

The rest of the week leading up to the flying lessons went by as normal for classes. However, Draco's preening and strutting about and bragging about how good he was on a broom or complaining about the rule against first years having their own broom was starting to wear a bit thin on everyone's nerves. Most of the upper classmen simply rolled their eyes and ignored the little braggart, which of course, annoyed him to no end. He was often heard making vague threats about his father's influence causing trouble for those who didn't show him more respect. While this caused a few students, especially the first and seconds years with lesser political strength or those born from mixed or mundane parents, to feign interest out of fear, most people simply ignored him altogether. Staros did not. He saw an opportunity instead.

"Seriously, Draco. If you're that good, just shut up and try out for the house team. Even if you just get an alternate position, you'll get the chance to show off at practice and even a few games," Staros said one morning after listening to Draco's spiel for about the tenth time.

"You shouldn't talk to me that way. My father…" Draco started.

"Yes, yes, Lord Lucius Malfoy is on the Board of Governors and has the Minister's ear. In case I haven't made it clear before, Draco, I don't care. Gods, it's like talking to a rock."

Draco sputtered something and looked to be about to start another long winded speech about his position, etc. when Staros looked at him and said, "Look, tell ya what. Howabout we make this interesting. I got ten galleons to say you aren't the top flyer in the class. Waddya say?"

Draco blinked and appeared to consider the bet.

"OK, done," Draco agreed.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Staros. "Now, hold on while I write this up. We'll get Nott and Blaise to witness it and we'll be all legal-like."

"Write it up?" asked Draco. "You make it sound like you can't trust me."

"Of course I don't trust you, Drakey!" said Staros, acting surprised it was ever in doubt. "We're in Slytherin, and alone in our room. Who the hell would believe either of us if we accuse the other of welching on a little gentlemanly bet?"

Draco grumblingly agreed to have it all written up, signed and witnessed. When Staros gave the parchment over to Professor Flitwick, however, he objected stating that Professor Snape should hold onto it. Staros said having a disinterested third party outside the house hold onto the paper made it so no one could tamper with the agreement and as a former duelist, Professor Flitwick's honor was the highest of all the instructors when it came down to betting. Professor Flitwick looked like he couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing or if he was insulted or not but agreed to hold onto the document, even signing his own name at the bottom as the neutral witness. At least Draco's bragging was cut back severely as he now had something riding on his skills.

Thursday rolled around with many students becoming increasingly nervous about the flying lessons. Most notable were several of the Gryffindors who became the butt of many jokes when it was seen that Hermione was trying to read up on flying skills while Neville had apparently never been allowed to even use a basic training broom at home. A couple of the Slytherin class were in similar positions, namely Tracey who's family looked down on the Quidditch game in general and never bought her a broom to use at home. Daphne was constantly assuring her that it would be fine and the brooms the school used were quite slow and not to worry.

Thursday afternoon arrived with the students from Gryffindor and Slytherin gathering together on the grounds around back of the castle, near the pitch. As everyone clustered into groups, mainly a Gryffindor on one side, Slytherin on the other, Staros was examining the brooms with a look of disgust. Harry looked quizzically at him before walking over to ask what was wrong. Ron followed along looking like he'd swallowed a lemon.

"These brooms are what's wrong, Harry," sneered Staros. "These things are barely usable. This one's twigs are all bent at odd angles! And this one looks like the handle was cut from rough timber! We'll be lucky if they get off the ground!"

Some of the other students looked like they agreed and despite still seeming to hate all things Slytherin, Ron was also nodding in agreement and said, "Fred and George warned us last night that the brooms weren't in the best shape."

About this time, the flight instructor, Madame Hooch, had arrived and split everyone into two lines facing each other. Having them all stand next to a broom, she said, "Stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'Up'."

As instructed, everyone said, "Up!"

Harry, Staros, Draco, Ron, and Daphne's brooms all jumped right to their hands. Others had more difficulty as Tracey's broom swung up at a bad angle and swatted her on the head. Hermione's twitched a few times and rolled over while Neville's just laid there. Blaise's broom came up half way before dropping back to the ground while Crabbe and Goyle both were wrestling Crabbe's broom back down as it decided 'Up' meant to fly away.

After a bit more trial and error everyone had ahold of their brooms and Madame Hooch walked the lines correcting people's grips or showing a better position to sit the handle. Draco was slightly embarrassed to be told his grip was all wrong earning him a sly smile from Staros.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madame Hooch. "Keep your broom steady, rise up a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle… three… two…"

Neville's nervousness had him pushing off a bit harder than necessary and a bit sooner than expected. As Madame Hooch was yelling for him to come back down, he was shooting straight up and looked like he was about to panic. Just as she picked up her own broom to help him as he was now over twenty feet in the air, his broom shuddered and Neville slipped sideways, lost his grip and fell to the ground with a loud THUD that did nothing to hide the nasty crunch sound that signaled the breaking of bone. The broom drifted away unnoticed as everyone, many, some Slytherin's included, rushed over to the boy.

Madame Hooch stalked over yelling, "Back off him. Let me see."

A quick examination and a statement of a broken wrist had Madame Hooch telling them all to stay here and on the ground while she escorted Neville to the hospital wing.

"And if I see a single one of you even sitting on a broom when I get back, you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'!"

Just as the two were out of sight, Draco started to laugh. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"

Naturally, Crabbe and Goyle started to laugh with their leader, along with Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and a few of Draco's other toadies. Daphne and Tracey just looked on, Daphne with an icy look of disgust and Tracey a bit upset, probably thinking about her own lack of flying skill. Staros and Blaise just leaned against a nearby rock staying out of the ridicule.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" said one of the Patil twins.

"Oooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" teased Pansy. "Never took you to fancy fat little crybabies, Parvati."

Before the inevitable cat-fight could start, Draco suddenly darted forward saying, "Look! It's that stupid ball Longbottom's gran sent him."

Tossing the Remembral up into the air a few times, Draco was looking rather pleased with himself.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly.

Draco turned to Harry and just sneered at him, "Why should I? Maybe I'll just leave it somewhere for him to find… like up a tree!"

With that, Draco jumped on his broom and kicked off the ground, quickly gaining altitude and swinging over to a nearby copse of trees.

"Well, look at that," said Blaise. "The braggart really does know how to fly."

Shrugging, Staros said, "Fly, yes. Fly well, let's see."

As Staros was saying this, Harry had grabbed up a broom and kicked off himself. For a boy that had been raised by mundanes, Harry was acquitting himself rather well as he quickly rose to the same height as Draco and moved to within about ten feet of him. Draco looked less than pleased.

"Give it here, Malfoy," said Harry. "Last chance, or I'll knock you off your broom!"

"Oh yeah," Draco sneered, looking a little less confident.

Harry suddenly leaned forward and shot towards Draco who only just barely moved in time, looking surprised.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy!"

Draco seemed to look a bit worried at that, but still dodged Harry's next run. The two of them played a bit of cat and mouse for a few minutes, showing that while Draco really could fly decently, Harry seemed to be in a whole different class. Staros wondered if he should start asking for bets. Every time Harry charged, he got closer; every time Draco dodged it was just a bit off. As Harry chased Draco down, Draco seemed to think enough was enough and stopped suddenly.

"You want it, catch it if you can!" screamed Draco, throwing the ball straight out and towards the castle walls where it would surely be destroyed.

Harry didn't even hesitate as he shot past Draco in a sudden burst of speed, nearly upsetting Draco from his broom. He swung in an arc towards the glittering ball, following it as it descended faster and faster towards the ground. Now Staros was sure he should have started the betting earlier. Harry seemed to tuck in and make himself smaller as he increased his speed far past what anyone believed the school brooms could do. Getting ever closer to the ground, he stretched out his hand and snatched the ball from the air before just yanking the broom straight and parallel to the ground, skimming along barely a foot up before it let itself down and Harry rolled off it. The broom looked to be smoking slightly.

"HARRY POTTER!"

As everyone was running up to watch Harry's dive, Professor McGonagall had coming striding rapidly unnoticed behind them. Everyone froze while Harry picked himself up and she stepped up to him.

"NEVER… in all my time at Hogwarts…"

Professor McGonagall looked shocked, angry, frightened, and undecided as to which emotion should take the fore. Fury seemed to win out.

"How dare you… might have broken your neck…"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor…" began Parvati.

"Be quiet, Miss Patil!"

"But Malfoy…" started Ron.

"That's enough, Mister Weasly! Potter, follow me, NOW!"

As Harry walked away looking dejected, Draco and crew were all smiles and giggles before Madame Hooch stalked back onto the field.

"Mister Malfoy, I believe I told everyone to STAY ON THE GROUND did I not? I will be speaking with your head of house about this incident. Be assured, you WILL be spending the next several days in detentions."

Draco looked decidedly less happy at this, but as they left the field, was alternating between being upset at his detentions and happily telling everyone how Harry would be gone by morning. Later that afternoon, Staros and Draco met up with Professor Flitwick.

"Draco, I cede the bet to you," said Staros. "While we couldn't find out definitively who was a better flier since class ended so early, you showed some skill out there so I'll call it a win for you."

Draco looked pleased with himself and snatched up the coins Staros counted out for him. As he and his cronies walked away, Professor Flitwick looked sideways at Staros.

"From what I near, Mister Marcus," said the little man, "Harry's skill outshone Mister Malfoy's. Why give him the win?"

Staros chuckled. "Honestly professor, the bet didn't even matter. I just wanted him to shut up about it for at least a couple days. Harry might fly circles around Draco, but for a bit, I was able sleep in my dorm without all the noise."

Professor Flitwick smiled and gave a little chuckle himself as he walked away.


	13. Midnight Chances

At dinner time, as Draco and Staros entered the hall with their respective cliques, Draco started over to the Gryffindor table and right to Harry. Staros followed out of curiosity while Blaise tagged along. Daphne and Tracey paused before deciding to just seat themselves leaving the boys to their own devices.

'After all, opportunity awaits only those who seek it,' Staros thought, remembering the line his grandfather so frequently drilled into him.

"Having a last meal, Potter?" Draco smugly started up. "When are you on the train back to the muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground with your little friends," replied Harry cooly. Staros smirked at that one.

'Good show, Harry. Now keep playing it cool.'

Draco scowled, "I'd take you anytime on my own. Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only, no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before?"

"Of course he has," said Ron. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Draco looked over at Crabbe and Goyle before saying, "Crabbe. Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room. That's always unlocked."

Staros saw the opportunity and stepped up at this point. "And I'll witness. Can't have a proper duel without an officiator after all. Ground rules, no lethal spells in and of themselves. So nothing like a cutting curse or the like that could actually cause damage. Duel is to the first to hit the other with a spell. No physical contact has already been stated and agreed. Loser does one assignment for the winner for any class of the winner's choice. How's that sound?"

Draco looked thoroughly disgusted by Staros' interruption.

"This really isn't any of your business you know."

"Oh, but it is, my dear Malfoy. It is. As a witness to the challenge and acceptance, I, as a third party with no real ties to either challenger or challenged, have offered my services as negotiator and official witness to the terms. Neville, old boy, have I left out anything important? Any traditions I should be aware of?"

Neville, who had been trying very hard to ignore the entire conversation while still nursing his bound wrist, looked up worriedly but shook his head.

"Excellent! Then it's all arranged! See you both at midnight!" Staros walked away, Blaise following, shaking his head.

As Draco walked back to the tables, Staros and Blaise were just sitting down with Daphne and Tracey.

"What was that all about, or do we really want to know?" asked Daphne.

Blaise shook his head at her and gestured at Staros who smiled widely at her.

"Nothing much, merely and opportunity that couldn't wait. Draco challenged little Harry to a wizard's duel tonight," Staros said. "Should be fun. You want to come?"

"A duel? Seriously?" Daphne replied looking positively uninterested. "You do know that if you're caught, it will mean quite the loss of points and not a few detentions. Plus, don't you think that Malfoy might go a bit overboard with Potter? What if he does something stupid and kills him?"

"Not to worry, kind lady. Draco really doesn't have the power to pull anything dangerous, plus I made that part of the rules when I agreed to officiate. Neither he or Harry has a big repertoire of spells to use, so it's mostly gonna be tickling charms and stinging hexes like we've been shown this week. Draco might pull off a few other things, but I doubt he can cast anything strong yet."

"Whatever. Just don't expect me to get involved in this idiocy."

That night, Staros sat up with Blaise playing cards until eleven thirty. Having not seen Draco most of the evening, they both speculated that he had probably spent his time with Crabbe and Goyle in their room and had most likely already left for the duel. Gathering up their wands and each wearing a dark cloak to blend into the shadows better, they quietly left their dorm and peeked into the common room. Seeing no one, they made their way quickly across the room and out the portrait arch.

Some twenty-five minutes later, they were in the trophy room when they heard the distinct sound of Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat. The little bell she wore always gave her away and many often wondered why Filch continued to have her wear it since it alerted students to his presence. Then again, maybe it kept students from being able to claim they cursed or killed it by accident, not knowing it was her.

Hiding themselves in an alcove on the opposite side from the direction of the noise, they waited. The sound of footsteps from behind their position nearly scared them silly until they saw it was Harry and Ron, surprisingly with Neville and Hermione.

"Hssst! Over here," Staros called in a whisper, scaring the quartet. They all jumped and then, realizing it was Staros with Blaise, moved into the alcove with them.

"Where's Malfoy?" asked Ron, looking around.

"Shhh, keep your voice down," said Blaise. "We heard Mrs. Norris just a few minutes ago."

"Looks like Draco's a no show," whispered Staros. "We better git too if we don't want to get caught by Filch."

About this time, Flich could be heard coming into the far end of the trophy room.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

With that, everyone looked at each other and the silent agreement to get the hell out was unanimous. Making their way back from whence the Gryffindors had come, they moved as silently as they could, trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and Filch and his cat. Rounding a corner, Neville squeaked in fright as he came face to face with his own reflection in a suit of armor. The sound cause Ron to jump back and he collided with another suit that was opposite. With the clashing sounds of armor falling, everyone panicked as Harry said, "Run!"

The six took off down the corridor, up a flight of stairs, around several corners and getting completely lost amidst the darkened halls. Slowing down to try and get their bearings, they realized they were near the Charms classroom, a long way from Filch.

"I think we lost him," said Harry, leaning against the wall and trying to catch his breath.

"I… told… you…" Hermione gasped out, holding her sides.

"Where was Malfoy?" asked Ron, looking at the two Slytherins. "He should've… come with you!"

Blaise shook his head, "We haven't…. seen him… all night… we thought… he left early…"

Staros looked back down the hall, breathing easier now. "He might have gotten caught. Knowing him, the first thing he'd do is rat us out."

"What if he never intended to show?" said Hermione. "He tricked you, Harry. He probably tipped Filch off and hid from you two so you would get in trouble too."

Staros shrugged, "Maybe. By the way, Harry, Ron, Hermione… pajamas?"

Hermione looked mortified to be running around in her PJs. Ron and Harry just shook their heads and Harry said, "We figured it wouldn't take long and it would make getting to bed easier."

Blaise looked at the normally dressed Neville, a question clearly in his eyes. Neville just mumbled about forgetting the dorms password and being locked out.

Harry decided they had rested long enough and said, "Let's go."

No sooner did they all get moving again did a ghastly image shoot out of one of the open, unused classrooms. Peeves. Seeing them, the poltergeist gave a squeal of delight.

"Quiet, Peeves, please," begged Harry. "You'll get us caught by Filch."

Peeves just cackled at them, "Wandering around at night, Ickle Firsties? Tut tut tut. Naughty naughty, you'll get caught."

"Please, Peeves, not if you don't give us away."

"Should tell I should," said Peeves assuming a saintly pose. "It's for your own good, you know." The wicked gleam in his eye belied the fatherly tone of his voice.

"Get out of the way!" snapped Ron, swiping at Peeves. Again, his inability to think ahead making more trouble for all.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" bellowed the poltergeist. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

"Shit!" yelled Staros.

Everyone bolted down a side corridor, away from the cackling ghost, and hopefully Filch. They ran only a short distance before encountering a dead end. And a large wooden door. Trying to open it, they found it locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned. "We're done! It's all you Slytherins' fault!"

"Shit, man," said Staros. "We're in as much trouble as you. Maybe more. Filch and Snape hate each other."

Ron just glared at him.

Hearing footsteps, Hermione pushed Harry to the side and pointed her wand at the door. "_Alohomra_!"

With a snick, the door's lock popped and the door swung slightly open. Pulling it all the way, Harry ushered everyone through and pulled it shut behind him. Throwing the bolt he found on the other side, they all leaned against the door, listening.

Rapidly approaching footsteps and a soft cackle indicated Peeves and Filch together.

"Which way did they go, Peeves? Quick, tell me!"

"Say 'please'."

"Don't you mess with me, Peeves. Which way did they go!"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please."

"All right! All right! Please!"

"NOTHING! Ha ha ha! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha ha!"

The gleeful laugh of the ghost was heard getting further away while Filch's cursing was also getting more faint.

"He thinks the door is locked," whispered Harry. "I think we'll be ok… what is it Neville?"

Neville had been tugging at Harry's sleeve for the last minute or so. Harry turned, "Uh, guys…"

Everyone else looked at Harry then in the direction he and Neville were facing. All of them went very still and very pale. They were not alone and this was not a room.

Somehow, they had ended up in the forbidden third floor corridor, the one promising a grisly death. That death was currently staring down at them in surprise, slowly turning to anger, from all six eyes.

A giant three-headed dog was standing behind them. Looking down at them. Drooling as its lips on all three heads began to curl into a growl showing its very, very large teeth. The growls were getting louder, indicating that surprise was no longer its primary focus. A midnight snack had just walked in after all.

Staros carefully pulled the bolt back and lifted the latch, trying not to make any sudden moves. Since the door opened outward from their current position, he figured they could all just fall through it and avoid being eaten. Grabbing Ron by his collar, Staros yanked hard on the boy's shirt while Blaise did the same to Neville. Since those two were standing on the far side of Hermione and Harry, naturally when they pulled them back, the other two fell with them.

The six students falling back through the door was just sudden enough to set the dog off. The growling bark the heads did as they all three tried to snap through the door at once was muffled, probably by a localized silencing charm that was being overwhelmed. Since the heads were fighting to all fit through the door that was too small for any one of them, Harry, Ron, and Staros managed to push the door shut while Hermione flicked her wand and reversed the unlocking spell.

"Well, now we know why the corridor is off limits," Blaise said casually.

"Yeah, but why in the name of all unholies would you have something like THAT in a school?" asked Staros.

"It's guarding something," answered Hermione.

"Seriously?"

"Didn't any of you see what it was standing on?"

"I was a bit distracted trying to watch the three heads," Harry said somewhat sarcastically. Neville and Ron both shook their heads indicating they saw nothing either.

"It was a trap door! There's something in there and the dog is a guard over it."

"Blimey!" was Ron's typical response.

"What's in a school that needs a guard like that?" Neville squeaked, a miracle itself considering how pale a shaken the poor boy looked.

"A good question, but not like we're finding out tonight," said Staros.

"I hope you're all happy," said Hermione, glaring at everyone, "we could all have been killed! Or worse, expelled! Now, if you don't mind, I wish to go to bed."

Saying nothing more, they all looked at each other, shrugged or nodded and then took off in separate directions, the Slytherins one way, the Gryffindors another. Neither group saw any sign of Filch or his cat as they made it back to their respective common rooms.

The next morning, Staros confronted Draco in the bathroom.

"So, what happened to you last night?" Staros asked, standing against the door so Draco had nowhere to go.

"What? Oh… I…" was the mumbled reply.

"Let me guess. Filch caught you as you honorably made your way towards the trophy room. Not having a good excuse to give him, you simply told him where he could find bigger fish to catch if he only let you go. Then you ran back here and back to bed."

Draco paled slightly, swallowed and then said, "Yeah. That's about what happened."

Staros smiled at him.

"No worries. We'll call it a draw. No one got caught, no harm, no foul."

"Y… y… yeah…" stuttered Draco, trying to smile himself.

Staros walked out of the bathroom, leaving the other boy to his morning routine. He nodded once to Blaise on his way out. Silently falling into step next to him and no one else around, Carcerous looked up at Staros questioningly.

"Gramps taught me a lot about how to handle weak braggarts like Draco. How's the work coming on the manor?"

"It be slow, young master. Da grounds be a right mess wit' bowtruckles an' pixies an' gnomes everywhere. We be havin' a deeficult time getting' dem to move."

"Think you can have the house partially livable by Christmas?"

"Aye, de house and immediate surrounds be ready by den. Young master's fadder be sendin' us Litzie to help about den. Things go fast in da house den."

"Keep me apprised of anything you need. Oh, and could you talk to the Hogwarts elves and get them to put me out a cappuccino in the morning? I miss my coffee."

"Aye, young master." The elf faded from view as Staros walked into the common room, none the wiser about his retainer.


	14. More Chances

At the breakfast mail drop, Staros, sipping a lovely cup of coffee from southern Italy, received his usual newspapers from California and New York, a letter from his brother on Japan, and a small mail order catalog for the local shops in Hogsmeade as he intended to do some shopping for Christmas but didn't want to deal with import customs or possible mail delays from overseas. As he was mulling over the complex financial pages of the New York Times, Draco stood and barred Harry's way out of the Hall. He grabbed the long package that Harry had been carrying.

"That's a broomstick," Draco said, throwing it back at Harry, a mix of jealously and glee on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter. First years aren't allowed them."

Ron, standing next to Harry, stepped forward slightly and started in.

"It's not just any broomstick; it's a Nimbus Two-Thousand. What did you say you had at home? A Comet Two-Sixty? Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley? You couldn't afford half the handle," snapped Draco. "I suppose, you and your brothers could save up twig by twig and have one by the time you're eighty."

Before Ron could come back with what promised to be a 'snappy' retort, Professor Flitwick had walked in the doors.

"Not arguing I hope, boys?"

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, professor," Draco volunteered rather quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, smiling at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me about the special dispensation made for you. What model did you get?"

"A Nimbus Two-Thousand," replied Harry, smiling back. Staros and Blaise had a quiet snicker at the look on Draco's face. "It's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it."

Professor Flitwick bid the boys good morning before shuffling off to the head table. Harry and Ron left at the same time, obviously trying not to laugh at the look of confused anger on Draco's face. Staros and Blaise weren't so nice and kept chuckling every time they looked over at Draco which made Draco all the more ticked. Daphne and Tracey watched the whole scene without making a sound, although Tracey couldn't seem to stop smirking.

That weekend brought about another change in Staros' school routine. As everyone had gotten dressed and was preparing to leave for breakfast, Carcerous broke his trend of hiding from all present. Fading into view and blocking the door, he stood in front of Staros with a look that said he definitely wasn't going to just move.

"Young master be fergettin' hees lessons. I be given him dis time to get used to da school, but now it be time ye be gettin' back to de plan yer fadder laid out fer ye."

Draco looked at Staros in shock. "Why do you have a house elf? And why are you letting it talk to you that way? Make it move so I can get to breakfast!"

Staros looked at Carcerous and knew that the elf wasn't going to budge, at least not until he went back to his training regimen.

Cocking his head to one side, Carcerous asked, "What it goin' to be, young master? You be agreein' to finish yer training or I be talkin' to Master Astrix?"

"I asked you a question!" shouted Draco. "And you, elf, shut up. Your betters are talking here. Go iron your ears or something!"

Carcerous looked at Draco like something you scraped off your boot. Staros sighed, then nodded to Carcerous and sitting down on his bed, waved his hand in Draco and Theo's direction. Blaise, stopped in the middle of putting on his socks, sat on his chair and waited to see what happened.

Carcerous stared at Draco a moment more, then said, "I not be one o'deez miserable house elves you bein' talkin' about. I be a retainer to da House of Marcus. Young master be my charge and my master, but young master also haz de obligations to de head of family, Master Astrix. I be leavin' da family any time I be wantin' but I stay cuz young master be my charge and my master. You be good to remember dat, little Malfoy, and to stay out'o beezness dat not be belongin' t'you."

Draco looked absolutely livid that an elf would speak to him, let alone threaten him. Before he could launch into one of his tirades about his father, Staros said, "Leave off, Draco. I'll explain it another time."

Carcerous pulled a long satchel out of the air next to him then gestured for Staros to follow him. The two made an interesting sight as Staros followed his elf out of the dorms, through the common room, out of the house, down the corridors and out into the castle courtyard. There they stopped out in the middle of the yard, several curious students looking to see what was up, some having followed the odd pair through the castle.

Staros began taking off his school robes and folding them up before laying them to the side. His shirt, shoes and socks soon followed, leaving him half naked and barefoot in the chilly morning air. The elf in the meantime had pulled a different kind of loose shirt from the bag, handed it to Staros who put it on and cinched the ties, and then pulled out what looked like a bundle of bamboo sticks. Handing that to Staros as well, the elf pulled a second stick bundle from the bag before both faced each other, holding the bundled sticks like a sword before them. Staros took a couple side swings before setting himself into a guard position. The elf stood relaxed with the sword-stick-bundle lazily off to one side.

Suddenly, without warning, Staros swung his bundle up into an arc right at the elf's head. Just before it hit, the elf pulled his bundle into a quick block, then riposted with a cut to Staros' legs. Staros swung his bundle down to push the cut aside and moved back a step before coming in with a cut to the left. The two then began to dance around each other, cutting and swinging, blocking and countering. A small crowd was drawn, several students also running off to tell others of the 'fight' happening in the yard.

For a full two hours, elf and boy cut at each other, Staros getting slower and weaker the whole time. Carcerous never took full advantage of his master's weakness, but still tagged him painfully a few times to remind him of the consequences of a drawn out fight. By this time, virtually the entire student body not in classes was present in the yard, hanging out of windows to watch, or standing on the walls with the free professors who had also come to see what the commotion was about.

Finally, Staros signaled an end to the exercise and handed Carcerous back the bundle. The elf bowed, accepted the sticks, and put the two odd weapons back into the bag. Staros sat heavily onto the ground, panting, sweat pouring off his body in rivers.

Professor Dumbledore chose that moment to walk out the front doors and towards the two. The students watching from the steps parted to let the headmaster through then closed back up behind him to watch and see what happened now.

"Mr. Marcus, may I know what the meaning of this demonstration is all about," asked the old man as he stepped up to the two. "Also, was not the agreement about your retainer to keep him hidden so as to not start a general rush for other students to obtain their own?"

"I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore. We both know that there are only about a dozen students that qualify to hold a retainer while on Hogwarts grounds. I also remember we had agreed to keep Carcerous quiet, but that was before I had neglected my duties to Queen and family."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at this before helping Staros to his feet.

"Part of my duties to the Queen may or may not include martial or other demonstrations, so grandfather had me start training on the sword and staff. I've been lax in my studies for the last month, so Carcerous took it upon himself to remind me most painfully of it."

"Indeed. I was under the impression a house elf could not harm a wizard in such a fashion."

Staros chuckled and waved to Carcerous to explain.

Carcerous looked up at Dumbledore and seemed to be thinking about his answer.

"I not be like deez house elfs you be havin' here. I be a retainer to da House of Marcus, free to be leavin' whenever I be wantin' to. I stay with young master as he be my charge and my master. Young master be neglectin' his studies so I be remindin' him of da work he has to catch up."

Dumbledore looked a little shocked to be spoken to in such a manner by an elf, but then settled and took it in stride.

"So it seems, so it seems. Very well, do try to keep your exercises to less public displays, Mr. Marcus. Good day." With that, Dumbledore strode back into the castle leaving Staros and Carcerous in the yard. The students began to break up into milling groups, returning to their other activities now that the show was over. The two packed up their things and agreed to start training again come Monday morning, this time out near the lake so as to not be a completely public spectacle.


	15. Gifts of Chance

Another month went by, classes had become practically automatic. Staros turned eleven with barely anyone noticing. Daphne and Tracey both gave him some sweets while Blaise gave him a card, neutral gifts both so as to not indicate any kind of attachment. Similar gifts were given by or to other students in the house, the only indications of preferences being levels of respect for status either in the house or familial with more powerful individuals being granted more lavish or more personal items while lesser beings were given what essentially amounted to acknowledgment only. The only difference in normal tradition was Staros sending out cards to people in other houses. His 'traitorous act' was ignored after Professor McGonagall awarded Slytherin twenty points for thoughtfulness though Staros later explained to any who asked that remembering little things like a birthday often netted huge returns later on in life, even if it was just being given a chance to talk. Some did wonder how he knew so many birthdays.

On the other hand, Staros' father sent him one of the first newly available in the US, magically functional laptop computers. Several students were heavily impressed with the item and everyone wanted to look at it. Draco practically drooled over the device, asking a million questions that were surprisingly intelligent and was perhaps the best conversation Staros and Draco had been involved in since they first met. Draco was turning into a magical IT geek, writing his father about the device and sending off for brochures from American suppliers. Staros was amused with Draco's antics, especially his father's return letters claiming that if it was 'muggle-based' it couldn't be worth anything, but not once did the usually spoiled and arrogant Malfoy demand one of his own or get petulant about not having full access to it. Well, he did stare at it a lot.

Staros was, of course, forbidden to bring the computer to classes as it was severely distracting. However, each of the professors, including those who Staros had yet to have classes with, took a couple of days to look over the invention and question him about it. Hermione went ballistic with her first sight of it, begging to examine the charms, runes and everything else about it she could think of, most of which was so far above their grade level as to be 'magic' to the young magicals, much like nuclear particle physics to the average fourth grader. She was not alone as many of the Ravenclaws also wished to examine it, a number of the first- and second-generation students being at least passingly familiar with computers.

Staros and Harry continued their friendship slash association, much to Ron's dismay. Between the two of them, they managed to keep the worst of the house rivalry from reaching explosive proportions, not that there weren't any confrontations. The Weasley twins made damned sure of that with pranks at least once a week on random houses, but primarily Slytherin. While no one in the school could match their sheer genius, there were several groups who at least tried and it started to turn into a giant inter-house game to see who could prank who worse. Thus far, only the professors and actual classes had remained safe.

On another positive note, Staros had gained a little bit of a following from other upper class students, mainly those trained in one form of martial art or another. Neville turned out to have been trained a bit in long sword fencing while Draco had been schooled in the finer art of the rapier, most likely due to his family's origination in France. Some of the other students had training in smaller weapons like daggers, primarily the females since wearing a dagger had become something of a fashion during the height of English dueling and women were expected to both be able to fend off attackers but not show any martial leanings. The obvious trade-off led to the use of stilettos and push daggers as a form of defense for women. Now several times a week, the small group could be found crossing training blades down by the lake. Carcerous, while initially found to be intimidating and disturbing to the more traditionalist house-elf bondage types, had been accepted as a capable instructor for most. Draco refused to be taught by an elf, which came as no surprise, but he was not the only one.

September done and gone, the chilly (-er) winds of October began. Charms classes had moved from theory to practical, Transfiguration was starting to make sense, Herbology was definitely turning out to be fun, Potions remained a bizarre mix of anticipation and horror, History still boring everyone to death, Defense continued to disappoint, and Astronomy stayed about the same. Professor Snape did indeed thoroughly examine Staros' alchemy kit and did order in some of the better made measuring, weighing, and mixing tools that mundane science had perfected. In exchange, Snape showed Staros a few tricks of the potions trade that Staros promptly shared with Daphne, Tracey, Blaise and Hermione, knowing full well that Hermione would share with Harry, Ron, and Neville. In this way, all of their potions skills improved, but nothing could be directly linked to Staros. To date, only Neville, Crabbe and Goyle showed no talents at all in Potions, but Staros suspected that Neville might get better since he did wonderfully in Herbology. Crabbe and Goyle were just hopeless.

One of the more interesting results of classes happened during the middle of the month in Transfiguration. Having 'mastered' the matchstick exercise, Professor McGonagall now had tem trying to turn a fork into frying pan, which was explained to be a little different since the iron involved resisted transfiguration, or many other magics, plus the differences in mass.

Staros sat staring at his fork, having tried unsuccessfully to transfigure it for almost a half hour. He kept running the 'tips' that Tracey's parents had sent through his head trying to figure out what they meant. Apparently, imagination was a key element to transfiguration, as well as attention. How? Imagination and attention seemed mutually exclusive.

"AHA!" exclaimed Staros, rather loudly, as he figured it out and with a wave, turned his fork into a frying pan.

"Mr. Marcus, congratulations and five points to Slytherin," said McGonagall. "However, I would appreciate it if you kept such outburst to yourself in the future."

"Yes, ma'am, sorry, ma'am," Staros said quite happily.

"Perhaps you cans hare the reason for your outburst and success?"

"Oh, yeah…" Staros began. "Well, I was given some tips regarding how transfiguration worked. They didn't make the slightest bit of sense to me until just now."

"Indeed, and what were these tips, pray tell?"

"Well, I was told about imagination and attention which seemed to me to be completely opposing ideas. How can you pay attention if you're spending time day dreaming? Then it all suddenly fit! Attention to details WHILE imagining the result! I just looked at the fork and refused to see it as a fork but as a frying pan. I imagined it as one, going over every detail I could about a frying pan, the weight, the feel, the shape, everything. Then I made it change. The rest, as they say, is history."

Professor McGonagall smiled at him.

"Indeed, Mr. Marcus. Those are some of the beginning points of how transfiguration is accomplished. Well done."

After this revelation, within five minutes, virtually everyone in the class had transfigured their forks into frying pans and back again. The few exceptions were Goyle and Pansy, both of whom became more frustrated at their lack of success. Draco tried to help Pansy, but this seemed to piss her off even more. Goyle just quit and sulked.


	16. Feeling and Chance

The end of October rolled around. Time, being rather constant, was difficult to stop. At least, completely or for any useful period of 'time.' Halloween was looming, and the school was starting to show signs of decorations. Illusory bats, at least everyone hoped they were illusions, twittered and darted along the halls. Skulls and skeletons decorated the odd corner or stand, often with candles set upon them or in empty sockets. The ghosts were in full swing, with several visiting spirits from numerous places around England. And Harry was becoming more depressed which Ron couldn't understand. After all, Halloween meant candy!

The truth of the day was driven through several people's rather thick skulls when Staros walked up to Harry during lunch and offered his condolences on this anniversary of the death of his parents. Ron started out with his typical patented 'Weasly glare of hatred' but quickly turned red with embarrassment when he realized that Harry had indeed lost his parents on Halloween and may not wish to celebrate it for that reason. Hermione and Neville were sympathetic, offering to help Harry with anything he wanted or to listen if he needed to talk, a welcome change since Hermione had been avoiding Harry and Ron after finding out about Harry's 'rule exception,' namely his broom. Harry thanked everyone and promised to try and be more chipper and not drag everyone else down with his sorrow. This of course, was immediately met with protests that he had no reason to be 'happy' just for them. Staros left Harry and Hermione arguing about precedence of feelings and Ron trying to get Hermione to leave them alone.

Later that day, Staros was on his way to the library when Hermione rushed past him crying. Curious, he followed to ask what was wrong, but she had disappeared around a corner and by the time he rounded it, she had either gone further or ducked into the girls' bathroom, neither prospect made him want to continue looking. Shrugging it off as a girl thing, he went back to the library to study up on the rather evil transfiguration topics assigned that week.

Dinner that night was spectacular. Numerous of the Halloween dinner traditions were observed, the main treat being a variety of pumpkin pies. Various kinds of candy were in small dishes set every so often on each table as well. Staros had long known that wizard candy was nothing like mundane candy. After all, with magic, you could change anything's flavor to whatever you want thus making candy delicious, but also healthy, containing a variety of vitamins and minerals that were often lacking in most people's diets and one of the secrets to magicals having somewhat longer effective lifespans than mundanes. Of course, this still didn't explain their horrible dental work.

Everyone was enjoying their meal, with even the Slytherins talking and acting more animatedly than usual, when suddenly Professor Quirrell burst through the main door, ran across the room and up to the staff table.

"T… tr… troll… t… troll in… the dungeons… thought you ought to know," was easily heard in the sudden silence, right before the man collapsed in a boneless heap. Pandemonium ensued.

A long BANG! shut everyone up as they all looked to Professor Dumbledore who put his wand back in his sleeve.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately! Professors, with me. We'll search the castle and remove this intruder."

The prefects jumped into action, calling out to their assigned year groups as they had at the start of term. As everyone gathered together, Blaise wondered aloud how a troll could get into the heavily warded castle. Tracey said that trolls were often stupid enough to bypass wards through shear stubbornness. Many other students speculated that it was Peeves. Suddenly, Staros realized something.

"Um, Gemma," he said to their prefect.

"Yes?"

"Aren't our dorms in the dungeon where the troll was spotted?"

"Shit! Kid's right. Where's Professor Snape? We need an alternate safe spot." She began looking for their head of house, nowhere to be found and assumed to have headed off with the other professors with Dumbledore.

"We'll go to the library," said Fitzroy, taking charge of the whole house. "And someone go remind the 'Puffs that their dorms are down there too."

Staros said he'd let them know and ran off towards the 'Puff prefect he caught sight of. He was pretty sure Fitzroy was not acting out of any compassion or kindness but more likely wanted to have the 'Puffs indebted to him. He was a true Slytherin, taking advantage of any opportunity.

After telling the 'Puff prefect and mentioning that the Slytherins were going to the library to secure themselves, Staros ran into Harry and Ron arguing while making his way back to his own house.

"Damnit, Ron, we need to go tell her!" Harry was saying.

"Tell a prefect," countered Ron, looking quite annoyed. "She's probably nowhere near the dungeons anyway and I don't want to run into that troll!"

"Say what? Harry? Ron? What are you two on about?" asked Staros.

"Hermione! We haven't seen her all day and she wasn't here for dinner! She doesn't know about the troll!" Harry explained. "We need to find her and get her back to the dorms!"

"I'm not going!" declared Ron. "And leave me out of this!"

"It's your fault she's not here!"

"Woah! Slow down! Ron's fault? What… no, never mind. Harry, you can explain later. Let's go find Hermione. I think I know where she might be. I passed her earlier today." Staros and Harry split off from the other students unnoticed. Ron went with the other Gryffindors but looked back frequently until he couldn't see them anymore.

Staros led Harry down to the corridor he'd lost Hermione in. "There's a girls' bathroom down here. If she's upset, she might have gone in there. It's a girl thing."

"Parvati and Lavender said she was in the loo crying. So this must be it," said Harry.

As they approached the bathroom door, Staros suddenly sniffed, loudly.

"What is that horrible smell? I hope it's not from Hermione. Gods, that reeks."

Then they heard it. A low shuffling thump from behind them. Turning, they saw the most hideous creature come around the corner. The smell, like some cross between a high school gym locker and a public toilet, neither of which had ever been cleaned, got terribly strong as both boys stared in horror at the lumbering sight before them.


	17. Fearful Chances

A vaguely human shaped, twelve foot tall, very ugly looking creature carrying a small tree over its shoulder had shambled into the intersection and now seemed confused about which way to go. Staros and Harry backed up to the bathroom door, hoping to escape notice and carefully, Staros turned the door handle. Quietly as they could, they eased the door open and slipped inside. They pulled the door just as quietly shut and pushed the bolt lock into place. A muffled sniffle was heard behind them.

"This is a girls' loo, you two better get out," said Hermione, somewhat louder than the two boys thought appropriate, her face streaked with tears.

"As much as I would love to leave, Hermione, we can't," whispered Staros. Harry nodded and motioned them to be quiet as he pressed his ear against the door.

Noticing they were acting rather odd, Hermione asked, "What's going on?"

"Shh… keep your voice down. Somehow…" started Staros. Then all hell broke loose as the door was ripped back from the frame and the three children stared up at the troll who looked to be trying to figure out what was in his hand, turning the door this way and that.

"Bollocks…" said Harry, standing almost directly under its feet.

The troll heard him. Dropping the door behind it, it looked down at the three small children in confusion for just a few moments before it decided that they should be smashed with its club.

Just as the club began to arc down, Harry dived quickly to the side while Staros shoved Hermione into a stall and used that force to fall to the side himself. The club came down onto one of the sinks, shattering it and crushing the flagstones under it. Hermione screamed, Staros pissed himself, and Harry started to curse quite proficiently (years with Vernon had given him a very complete vocabulary to work from).

Harry picked himself off the floor as the troll was looking around, trying to see if it had squashed them. He then picked up a large chunk of the broken sink and threw it at the troll's head. This seemed to verify to the troll that they had not been squashed and it needed to try again, this time swinging sideways at Harry.

Harry ducked, tucked and rolled under the club in a surprisingly acrobatic move (years of dodging Dudley) which smashed into the bathroom wall and shook the whole castle it felt like. Staros pulled out his wand but was still in a bit of shock trying to get his mind into gear as to what he could possibly do to something this size.

The troll, seeing Hermione shut the stall door she was in, pulled the club back across the room in a wide swing for the stalls. The club met little resistance as it tore through them like paper. Fortunately, Hermione had also ducked to the floor so she was relatively unharmed.

"Get up! Run!" Harry yelled at them both, throwing another chunk of debris at the troll. This diverted attention back to him, so Staros darted in to grab Hermione's arm and shoved her not so gently towards the side of the troll that would allow them to escape notice and hopefully dodge out the door.

The troll swung his club back at Harry, who again dodged the very large piece of lumber. As he did so, Staros shoved Hermione out the door where she stopped and turned, "Harry!"

Staros' world slowed to a crawl. He and Hermione could escape. However, he would owe that escape to Harry Potter, last of his line, who would most likely die for their freedom. He'd owe a debt rather too large to pay to a boy who would haunt his life forever. This was not acceptable.

"Damnit, Harry! Run you idiot!" Staros took a page from Harry and threw a large rock at the back of the troll's head. Seeing that this didn't cause enough effect, he quickly looked around and cast the _**Accio**_ charm they learned last week at a rather large piece of flagstone. Since it was on the other side of the troll, its very rapid summoning caused it to slam right into the troll's knees and then swing up between the troll's legs. Apparently, human shaped included certain sensitive spots as the troll paused for a moment and then let out a howl of pain that probably was heard on the other side of the Forest.

Harry took this moment of distraction to dart past the troll and rejoin Staros and Hermione. The three took off running down the corridor, hoping to escape before the troll recovered. They were not so lucky.

The troll was now maddened past any miniscule point of reason it once had. Swinging around, the creature brought its club through the wall to its left as it turned to chase the children. Letting out a roar not quite as loud in anger, it gave chase to the small things that hurt it.

"Any ideas?" yelled Hermione as they ran for their lives.

Harry started to shake his head then yelled, "Stairs!"

Not knowing exactly what he meant, Staros and Hermione followed Harry as he turned down another corridor toward the central staircases. As the troll was gaining on them, anything was better than nothing. Reaching one of the narrower staircases, Harry quickly ran over to the bannister and slid down to the next floor. While a completely reckless move since a slip could mean a fall down several floors of empty space, the troll with its massive club made falling seem less like suicide, more like escape as Staros and Hermione followed suit.

Picking themselves up, Staros turned to Harry and said, "Now what?"

"Dunno, that was as far as I got."

As the three felt, heard and then saw the troll coming to the top of the staircase, Staros was hit with an idea.

"All of us, aim for the left sandal and summon it to us."

The other two looked completely lost, but pulled their wands. The troll was just starting down the narrow staircase.

"Now! _**ACCIO**_ SANDAL!" Staros shouted, hearing the others say the same spell.

Normally, something like this wouldn't do any good. Trolls, being quite large, dense, and invariably stupid, were quite resistant to magic. Their clothing, if it could be called such, was not.

The troll's left sandal, a quite ingenious piece of work for a troll, consisted mainly of a large piece of leather of some sort with leather strings tied around and through it and bound to their ankles while holding in place several pelts from who knows what as protection from dogs, sharp rocks, other trolls, troll children, and most insects as the bugs never survived the stench of the collected refuse wrapped in the hides. It did not protect the troll from what happened next.

The troll's left foot went a slightly different direction that the rest of the troll. Normally, this wouldn't matter since trolls had a strange, innate ability to correct for their awkward size and often misshapen limbs. But on a narrow staircase, narrow for humans being about four feet across, for trolls about the human equivalent of running down a slanted two-by-four, the ability to correct its footing was limited. So when its foot went one way, the leg pushed it down to meet the bannister, tore through and then nothing, resulting in the troll tumbling down to its left and off the staircase to plummet down several floors of empty space and land with a very loud CRACK! as the flagstones underneath buckled. The trio of students collapsed onto the floor.

A few mindless moments later they were found as the professors, drawn by the troll's roars and the sounds of destruction arrived from various points around them. McGonagall came in from the corridor next to them first, looking as stern and unforgiving as ever. From the third floor stairs came Snape, followed quickly by Quirrell who appeared to have completely recovered from his fainting spell earlier. As they began climbing towards the ledge the trio sat on, McGonagall started in on them.

"What on earth are you doing? Why aren't you in your dormitories? Don't you know there's a troll loose? From the sounds it was making it must be close! Come on, up with you! We'll get you out of here!"

Hermione stood and shook her head.

"No need professor. The troll fell down there," she said, pointing down the stair shaft. At this point, Snape and Quirrell had arrived and they caught Hermione's revelation. Snape idly looked over the railing and saw the troll's, body its head bent at an odd angle, and smirked ever so slightly.

"Indeed. And just how did it find itself down there, Ms. Granger?" Snape asked.

"We sort of… summoned its shoe, sir," said Harry.

Quirrell had been standing at the rail, looking rather lost and dazed when Harry said this. His head snapped around to look at the boy but the motion seemed too much for his already stressed constitution and he paled slightly before sitting himself down and for all the world looking like he was about to have a coronary.

"Professor? Are you all right?" asked Staros, hoping to divert some of the attention away from them, with limited success as at this point, most of the other professors were arriving from different locations.

Quirrell waved aside the boy's concern but allowed himself to be pulled over to a bench in the corridors. Meanwhile, Dumbledore and Flitwick wanted to know how they had summoned the troll's shoe and how that resulted in the troll's falling to its death. Knowing that they were in for quite the grilling session, Staros asked if they could all sit somewhere more comfortable, and less smelly, while they told the story. Dumbledore agreed and led the way to his office, asking Snape and McGonagall to attend since it involved students from both houses.

Settling into the Headmaster's office, and politely declining the lemon drops he offered everyone present, Harry and Staros proceeded to tell the tale of how they managed to be in a girls' bathroom with a full grown mountain troll… and a girl. During this time, the reasons for Hermione's impromptu disappearance were made know, namely Ron's insulting and rude behavior, par for the course for the young Weasley. Professor McGonagall was not amused.

Having heard the stories from the trio of students, the professors asked a few simple questions, berated them for their blatant stupidity, and then praised them for their ability to think on their feet. The _**Accio**_ of the troll's shoes was so inspired, Snape actually almost smiled, but made it perfectly clear that further Gryffindor-like actions from anyone in his house was not to be tolerated. McGonagall, having recovered from her brief brush with a coronary, deducted twenty points apiece from the students. Seeing their dismay, Dumbledore then awarded them fifty points apiece for their bravery and quick thinking. After they left the offices for their dormitories, Snape also awarded an additional thirty points to Staros for his proper warning of both his own house and that of Hufflepuff, going on to state that while friends were nice and business associates were ok, people who owed you a debt were always the best.


	18. Reasons and Chances

The following day, virtually everyone in the castle knew about what had happened, in one form or another. Draco seemed somewhat impressed with Staros taking on a troll, but also kept on about how truly 'Gryffindor' that was and wondering if he had been sorted into the proper house. Daphne and Blaise pointed out the same thing, in more polite terms. Daphne suggested that perhaps the 'House of the Brave Idiots' might be contagious and Staros spent far too much time in their presence.

When they found out why Hermione was in the bathroom half the day, neither was very impressed. Half of Slytherin may believe in Blood Purity, but they also believed, for the most part, in tact and decorum, neither of which were strong points with Ron.

Ron's actions also made their rounds through the other houses, leading to him being snubbed by many. Hufflepuffs treated him like dirt since Hermione was in the same house as he was and their sense of loyalty pretty much demanded that they never do such a thing to another person.

The Ravenclaws may dislike Hermione for her intelligence, wasted as it were in Gryffindor they thought, but respected her for the same reason. Nothing like top marks to impress a House of Knowledge and another reason to look down on less stellar students like Ron was always welcome.

Nothing the other houses did compared to Gryffindor, however. Everyone, down even to shy, timid Neville, shunned one Ronald Weasley. With the sole exception of the Weasley twins, who took it upon themselves to not so quietly drag their little brother off to a remote spot in the castle and 'explain' some things to him. Percy, whose stick-up-his-ass attitude was legend throughout the school, managed to score a few points with the 'godless rule-breakers' with his assistance in dragging said little brother to said remote corner of the castle. Ron was very quiet for the next couple of weeks, spending a lot of time by himself, with an expression of deep thought that looked to cause pain.

Staros managed to wriggle a few details about the conversation the twins had with their wayward brother and quietly let the rest of the Slytherin house know what had been said. While they house normally did not engage in idle gossip, even Professor Snape edged some tacit approval for the twins' actions, and more specifically, the lessons behind it.

A few nights in the House of Cunning were devoted to learning about debts, tact, and how to snub people without them realizing it, and sometimes thanking you for the insult. Direct, public, and obscene insults like those Ron had engaged in were considered an indication of lesser intelligence. Public insults of even the subtle kind were to be used only if one was in a position of extreme strength over the other, such as king to knight. Draco was rather unhappy to have Daphne stare coldly at him during this lecture.

The weather turned rather nasty in November. Staros was sure it was Hell on Earth, but everyone told him that this was quite normal for Scotland, something he frequently wrote to his grandfather about, wishing the Head of Family a polite 'Die You Evil Bastard' with every line. Replies were received with messages like 'Make Me' and 'I'm Sorry, I Can't Hear You Over The Sound Of The Warm Sand Under My Feet' plus pictures of sunny California.

Naturally, with the weather turning bad, the first Quidditch games were scheduled to start after the first week. Harry was spending less time with Ron due to the troll incident, like most of his house, but was also spending more time with Hermione. Staros had convinced Daphne that Hermione was a wellspring of research, so frequently the group could be found in the library, studying together. Blaise and Tracey invited themselves along, of course, but the big surprise was Neville. Like a turtle peeking out of his shell, Neville seemed to be getting better at talking to others. After seeing his talents with Herbology, the others quickly agreed to include him in their sessions, picking his brain about obscure plants and their uses.

The day before the first match, Harry asked Staros if he could get his book, '_Quidditch Through the Ages'_, back from Snape as it was confiscated that morning. Staros said he'd ask, but made no promises. Upon nearing his head of house's office that afternoon, he found the door open and an odd scene playing out.

Professor Snape had his robes pulled up over his knees while Filch was bandaging one of his legs.

"Blasted thing," Snape said. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Staros cleared his throat and knocked on the door jamb causing Snape to drop his robe quickly and give Filch a look of disgust as Snape realized the caretaker had left the door open.

"What is it Mr. Marcus?"

"I was asked if I could pass on a message from Potter, sir. He wished to know if he could have his book back, the Quidditch one you took from him this morning?"

Snape sneered, pulled the book in question from a box of confiscated items and threw it on the desk.

"Take it. Tell him to keep non-school books in his dorm room where they belong."

"Yes, sir." Staros picked up the book and left.

At dinner that evening, Staros returned the book to Harry and passed on Snape's message about personal books. He also 'let slip' the fact that Snape had been injured and most likely by the three-headed dog they had encountered earlier in the year. It never hurt to have privileged information safely tucked into different corners. Plus, they'd all seen the dog and knew it was guarding something, but Snape was a teacher. Why would he need to get past it?

The next morning was the first Quidditch match of the year. Staros spent a good portion of the previous evening and all of that morning trying to avoid the sports fanatics. He was never a sports fan himself, even though he respected the skills required to play most. Soccer and American football were his favorites if anyone forced him to pick, but Quidditch? No, he expected he would never be a Quidditch fan. To Staros, it was a weird mix of basketball, soccer, and flying tricks, many of which made little sense. America had teams of course, but it wasn't as well followed as the other American sports.

Unfortunately for him, Staros was to be dragged to the first match simply because of house solidarity. It promised to be a long day.

"Welcome everyone to our first Quidditch match of the season. I'm your announcer, Lee Jordan. Let's introduce our teams, shall we?"

Staros huddled in one of the least desired seats, next to the professors' box. No one ever wanted to be under the eyes of every professor in the school. Staros felt it was the best place to get some reading done. He was joined by a couple of Ravenclaws and one Hufflepuff who obviously felt the same way he did. Everyone nodded politely, and then promptly ignored everyone else as they delved into one text or another.

"From Slytherin House, their team captain and chaser, Marcus Flint. Chasers Adrian Pucey and Graham Montague, rumors have it that Pucey only plays 'cause Flint said 'or else'."

"JORDAN!" came McGonagall's voice from the background.

"Sorry, professor. Anyway, rounding out the suspiciously all male team…"

"JORDAN!"

"… are seventh year beaters Kenneth Basil and Segum Milo, their almost keeper Miles Bletchley, and seeker Terence Higgs who has made it known that this will be his last season. A big round of applause for Slytherin losing three players in one year!"

"FOR THE LOVE OF!..."

"Now our Gryffindor team, here's the best keeper in the school, all around Quidditch fanatic, and captain, Oliver Wood! The best and prettiest chasers, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson. I wish she'd chase me sometime!"

"LEE JORDAN!"

"What? She's cute… anyway, our own Dynamic Duo, the Weasley Twins, Fred and George… good luck telling them apart people, rumor is even their own mother has trouble… and finally, our newest player, youngest seeker in a century, HARRY POTTER!"

The Gryffindors, much to the annoyance of those students sitting with Staros, erupted into cheers louder than ever when Harry took to the field. Staros looked around and saw the teams line up, the game getting ready to start. Shrugging, he turned back to his book.

A whistle blew; Staros glanced up to see the game had started.

"And the quaffle is taken immediately by Johnson and she belts down the pitch, a neat pass to Spinnet, back to Johnson and… no! the Slytherins have taken the quaffle, Flint grabs it and is off down the field… buck teeth or not, the boy really can fly…"

"JORDAN!"

"… looks like Flint might score… no! stopped by an excellent move by Wood. Great job Wood! Bell has the quaffle now, dives around Flint, off up the field and… OUCH! That had to hurt, bludger to the back of the head… Pucey has the quaffle now…. But he's blocked by the other bludger, sent his way by Fred or George… seriously, someone paint a letter or something on them to separate them?... Johnson has the quaffle now and a clear field… off she goes, now that's flying!... dodges a bludger… near the goals… come on Angelina… Bletchley dives… misses, and GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Cheers once again interrupted study as the first goal was made. Staros sighed and realized he really wasn't going to get any effective study done with all the noise and put his book away, sat back, and watched the rest of the game. Some of the others near him were also of the same opinion but a few soldiered on.

"Slytherin has possession, Pucey dodges two bludgers, two Weasleys, and Bell, speeding down the field… slick flying there Pucey… zooming towards the goals and wait! He ducks? Was that the snitch?"

Pucey nearly dropped the quaffle as he dodged something that could only just be seen. A speck of gold zipping past his ear that drew everyone's attention as they tried to follow the path of the tiny snitch.

Harry and Higgs had both seen it as it passed Pucey, and dived towards it together. Neck and neck they hurtled down the pitch trying to gain on the elusive gold ball. Everyone else seemed to have slowed and forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they watched to two.

Harry's broom being the faster, he started to pull ahead. Reaching for the darting gold in front of him, he never saw Flint as the boy suddenly accelerated up at Harry.

WHAM! A roar of rage from the Gryffindor stands as Flint slammed into Harry's broom, nearly knocking Harry off.

A whistle is blown, Madame Hooch starts yelling at Flint, and a foul shot is awarded to Gryffindor.

"So… after and obvious and disgusting bit of cheating…" Jordan started, obviously having a hard time staying objective.

"JORDAN!"

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul…"

"LEE JORDAN! I'M WARNING YOU!"

"All right, all right… Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor seeker, which could happen to anyone, I suppose, so a penalty shot for Gryffindor…Spinnet takes the shot… puts it away, no trouble… Gryffindor keeps possession…"

Staros had been watching the game rather laconically. He was bored. Some of the flight moves pulled by a couple of players were rather slick, but it just didn't hold his attention. The few professional games he'd been dragged to were a MUCH faster pace and he felt a bit more attraction to those levels of play, but even still, Quidditch just would never be his 'thing.'

At some point, Slytherin had regained possession when several people near Staros started to whisper and point, none too inconspicuously. Looking around to see what the hubbub was about, he saw Harry rising higher on his broom which was jerking this way and that, almost like a bucking bull trying to unseat him.

Staros frowned wondering, 'Has he lost control? Is there something defective with his broom? Maybe Flint damaged it?'

By now, everyone seemed to have noticed Harry's predicament. His broom suddenly twisted sideways on him, swinging him off the side. Harry was now hanging from his broom. Staros looked around to see if anyone was trying to help when he noticed Hermione slinking under the stands near his seat.

The Weasley twins had climbed up next to Harry in an attempt to try and get him either back on his broom or catch him as needed. Meanwhile, Staros watched as Hermione stopped under the professors' box and cast a bluebell flames spell on someone's robes. Looking up, Staros saw Snape suddenly realize he was on fire and started stomping and dancing to put the flames out. In the process he knocked over Quirrell and Flitwick and spilled a drink onto McGonagall, all of whom frantically tried to help him put out the flames.

Hermione had disappeared, but looking over towards the Gryffindor seats, Staros saw Ron, Neville and Hagrid sitting together. Slowly making his way over to them, he was not surprised to see Hermione pop up from under the stands and sit down with them.

Looking up, Staros saw Harry's broom issues seemed to have sorted themselves out as Harry climbed back up onto his broom. Without any warning, Harry suddenly dived towards the ground only to clap his hands to his mouth. Reaching the ground, he fell off his broom onto all fours and looked to be about to get sick. A moment or two of retching and Harry popped the snitch out of his mouth to win the game. Shaking his head, Staros continued to walk over to Hagrid and company.

Harry rushed off the field to join Hagrid and Hermione, and met Staros as he started to climb the stands.

"Nice… um, catch there, Harry," Staros said. "Not the traditional method I believe, but it should count."

"Yeah, I thought I was going to swallow it there for a minute," Harry replied, laughing. "Hey, Hagrid! Glad you could make the game!"

"Heya, 'Arry! Staros! Great game wazn'it?" Hagrid exclaimed.

"Yeah, Hagrid, pretty intense."

Staros joined the group as they walked to Hagrid's hut. Everyone sat down, Harry got another lapful of Fang, and Hagrid started setting out for tea.

"What happened with your broom up there, Harry?" Staros asked. "Did it get damaged when Flint hit ya?"

"It was Snape," said Ron suddenly. Apparently, Hermione had allowed him back into her good graces, at least for now. "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid. "Why would Snape do somthin' like that?"

"Well, he doesn't like Harry much," volunteered Staros. "Plus, I think he knows about a certain aborted midnight meeting. One where we all accidentally ended up running into that three-headed guard dog of Professor Dumbledore's."

"How do you know about Fluffy?" asked Hagrid, almost dropping the tea kettle.

"Fluffy? Seriously?"

"Yeah, he's mine actually. Bought 'im off a Greek chappie I met at the pub las' year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard…"

"Guard what?" asked Ron.

"Eh, ye best ferget I said that," said Hagrid, looking very uncomfortable. "That's top secret, that is."

"Well, Professor Snape seems to be trying to get past your dog, Hagrid," said Staros.

"Maybe he's after what Fluffy is guarding!" piped Harry.

"Rubbish!" came Hagrid's expected reply. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why was he cursing Harry's broom?" asked Hermione. "I know a jinx when I see one. I've read all about them. You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all. I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now listen, all o'yeh, yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget about Fluffy, an' you forget about him guardin' nothin'. That's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel…"

"Flamel? I know the Flamels," said Staros.

Hagrid looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. To keep on Hagrid's good side, everyone dropped the subject for now, after everyone kicked Ron in the shins a couple of times anyway. About an hour later, Hagrid seemed to have calmed himself and they left his hut promising to visit again soon.


	19. Chance Learning

That evening, during dinner, Staros received a letter by post owl. While not completely uncommon to get post during dinner, it was odd enough to cause a few heads to turn. Staros carefully removed the scroll from the owl's carrying pouch, gave it a couple pieces of meat from his plate, and waited until it had left, indicating no reply was immediately required, before examining the scroll.

It bore the seal of the Wizengamot.

Staros slid the seal off the scroll and unwound it, Blaise trying to 'discretely' read over his shoulder. After reading a few lines, he rolled it back up, much to Blaise's disappointment, and stood.

"Excuse me friends, I must see the Headmaster about something."

Daphne raised an eyebrow, but nodded to him, knowing he'd tell her pretty much everything later. Tracey pouted a bit since he wasn't giving any hints and Blaise looked at him with a questioning eye.

Shaking his head at Blaise's unasked desire to accompany him, Staros walked between the tables towards the head table at which the professors ate. Several sets of eyes followed him as this was a MOST unusual occurrence.

Arriving at the head table, Staros walked quickly up to Dumbledore.

"Headmaster," Staros began, "I have received my mandatory summons to the Wizengamot so that I might claim my seat."

Staros handed the scroll to Dumbledore who unrolled it and read through the various bits of legal mumbo-jumbo to the important part about, despite his just turning eleven, Lord-elect Staros Marcus must attend the late year bi-annual Wizengamot meeting in order to claim his House seat on the fifteenth. Nodding, Dumbledore handed the scroll back.

"I shall expect you no later than ten o'clock in the morning in my office, young Staros. We shall take my floo to the Ministry and from there, the Wizaengamont meeting. I assume you are aware of the dress code?"

"Yes, sir. Carcerous has already taken the time to pick up some appropriate attire for the occasion. If it is possible, could I arrive a little early to talk with you about the meeting and what I can expect?"

"Hmmm, yes… a wise choice. Very well, be at my office at nine and we'll discuss how the old men bore the younger with our long winded talk." Dumbledore said this with a smile.

"I'm sure. I'll see you then, thank you, Headmaster," Staros said before turning and walking back to his seat. Passing Snape, he nodded to his Head of House who nodded back, a silent agreement that Staros and Snape would be discussing this matter soon as well.

That evening, Staros was sitting in Professor Snape's office going over a few of the details about the next day's Wizengamot meeting.

"Grandfather has had me in on some of the meetings he's had with various heads of state, business partners, and other important people, but I know watching and participating is going to be very different."

"Indeed, your biggest disadvantage will be your age, Mr. Marcus," said Snape. "You will find the majority of the Wizengamot to be made up of pompous fools and old goats who's only concerns are what they can get out of a deal. And at your age, you won't be expected to know or bring anything worthwhile. I'm sure you noticed similar things in your grandfather's meetings."

"Yes. I mean, I know in business you want the best deal for your side, that's just business. But to see it in law makers and the ones who are supposed to protect the people was often just appalling." Staros sighed. "It's a good thing the mundanes have developed various balances to keep things running smoothly."

With a twisted smile, Snape replied, "Well, you must also remember that your age can also be used to your advantage. Play the eager to learn child and most of these idiots will be doing their utmost to impress you with their knowledge and will likely let things slip they normally wouldn't. But don't be obvious about it."

"Is there anyone in particular I should watch out for or make sure I speak to?" asked Staros.

Snape sat back and templed his fingers together at his lips, obviously deep in thought about those he knew and what he should tell this young Lord.

"First, regardless of whom you speak with, agree with nothing. Don't disagree either, but remain as neutral as possible while you learn the playing field. You don't want to get caught up in something that might be seen as a tacit agreement that turns out badly. Many of these men have been playing this game a long time, some so long that it's all they know how to do anymore."

"So if they say the sky is blue… what? I hem and haw about it?" Staros asked. "Won't I look like an idiot?"

"A lot of these men will think you're an idiot anyway. Just don't prove it. As to who you should avoid, I would try and stay away from any kind of private meeting with the Minister, Lucius Malfoy, the Notts, Dumbledore, and whatever else you do, do NOT end up in a room or corner with Goyle or Crabbe."

"I've… heard some rumors about those two… and Vincent and Greg seem… off somehow."

"The rumors are probably not as bad as the truth. Just stay away from those two. As for who you should talk to, a nice, public scene with the Minister probably won't hurt, but try to avoid making any commitments with him. Talk with the Greengrass's, I've seen you with their daughter and, what's the boy's name, Zabini? His mother will be there, but you won't be able to play at her level for some time." Snape shook his head at that last remark.

"Ok, anyone else?"

"If you feel you're getting into trouble or someone starts trying to get too close, make your way over to Madame Bones. She's the head of the DMLE and while she may not like you, she'll always be fair."

"The DMLE? What's that?" asked Staros. "I'm still a little unfamiliar with some of you Brit's terms."

"Like it or not, you're a 'Brit' now. Get over it. Get used to it. If you spend too much time flaunting the difference between the Americas and England, many of the families will ignore you as some colonial upstart, and be right doing so," Snape said sternly.

"Yes, sir," said Staros, looking resigned to his fate in English government. "I'll try to remember that."

"As for the DMLE, that is the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The auror corps is their strength, hit wizards their back up. Madame Bones is the savviest woman in the Ministry right now, being able to hold such a post in a patriarchal system AND manage to do a good job of it. I imagine she also knows where more than a few bodies are buried to use against those who try and push her politically. Do NOT get on her bad side."

"Does she work with the foreign governments like the magical side of the CIA?"

"More than likely, not. Our Ministry is full of closed-minded fools who try and bury their heads in the sand rather than deal with a problem, so international cooperation is minimal at best. Another woman that you'll find on the Wizengamot is Augusta Longbottom. I would say avoid her as she is far too controversial and pushes the more conservative members of the Ministry too hard. She can't be removed as she's the regent of House Longbottom, but she's not well liked."

"Ok, any other advice for me, sir?"

"Whatever you do, don't show weakness. Don't back down. Stand firm and remember, YOU are an English Lord, sworn to the Crown. Most of those sitting on the Wizengamot do not have that authority behind them. Take care to not insult anyone, but never let them bundle you off to the side either."

"Yes, sir, thank you," said Staros as he got up to leave. "I'll compare what you've said to me with what the Headmaster has to say tomorrow and go from there."

A smirk appeared on Snape's face.

"Spoken like a true Slytherin. Take nothing at face value, verify everything. Off with you now, to bed!"

With that dismissal, Staros left Snape's office and walked to the common room. Seeing Daphne and Tracey off on one side with Pansy and Millicent, he decided to score a few brownie points by doing a favor.

"Good evening ladies, I don't mean to interrupt, but could I speak with you a moment Ms. Greengrass?" Staros asked with a slight bow.

Daphne looked him up and down somewhat coldly before saying, "All right. A moment and no more."

She stood and the two of them walked a short distance away.

"What is this about, Marcus?"

"My, so cold today Daph. I just wanted to see if there was anything I could pass along to your father if I meet him tomorrow at the Wizengamot. But, if you'd rather I left you alone…"

Daphne sighed, "Wait. Sorry. Pansy's getting on my nerves going on about her betrothal contract with Malfoy."

"They still have those?" Staros asked, incredulous. "I mean, sure there's still arranged marriages state-side, but they mostly did away with actual contracts over a hundred years ago. I think some of the Chinese and Indian families still practice it, but not usually in a binding legal sense."

"Yes, they still do that here," Daphne said, obviously annoyed. "I'm only glad it's her and not me that'll be stuck with Malfoy. Anyway, I'll write a short letter to my father and give it to you in the morning if that's all right."

The look in her eyes said it had better be all right or the consequences would be most… memorable. She had a wonderful talent for that look.

"Certainly. I look forward to the tears of joy your father will shed upon receiving a letter from his much beloved daughter. Your faithful delivery boy shall do his utmost to ensure the safe arrival of such a precious package."

Had Staros known Daphne longer than a few months, and outside Hogwarts, he would have known that playful banter was not one of her favorite items. As this was not the case, he had no idea how dangerously close to being turned into a pile of mush he really was. Daphne merely looked at him, nodded once behind her cold façade, and walked back to rejoin Tracey, who by then was looking slightly panicked at being trapped alone with Pansy.

The next morning, bright and early, Staros got out of bed, did his morning routine, and shrugged on some old robes for breakfast. He sat in the common room reading over some of the information about conduct in the Wizengamot that his grandfather had provided. Assuming that what he had wasn't too out of date, he should be ok with the basic proceedings. He had looked through granddad's files the previous nights for the names that Snape had mentioned. From what he had read, Snape was right on the money about them all.

Blaise, Daphne and Tracey wandered in a little while later, having slept in a bit. The foursome followed their usual routine of walking each other to breakfast. Over the last couple of months, they had developed a good sense of each other's skills and come to an unspoken agreement to watch each other's backs while in the halls, a very important lesson for any young Slytherin, and a habit often followed long past school.

Returning to their dorms after breakfast, Daphne handed Staros a sealed scroll to deliver to her father. A vague warning about tampering with the seal told him that true to Slytherin ideals, she didn't completely trust him. He received the warning with a smile and a nod, placing the scroll in his pouch. The rest left to go to classes while Staros returned to his room to change into his more formal robes. Draco was waiting for him, for once without his twin pillars of brooding doom.

"Ummm… Marcus, I… I was hoping you could do me a favor," Draco started, gaining some confidence now that the request was out.

"What might that be, oh son of the most high governor?" was Staros' slightly sarcastic response.

Draco sneered, "You don't have to be an ass about it. Look, nevermind. Just forget it."

Seeing that the boy was obviously a bit distressed, Staros relented.

"Ok, ok… sorry… what do you need?"

"Well, since you're going to the Wizengamot meeting today. I was hoping that you could… well… talk to father. His letters have been getting a little short lately and I'm afraid he's upset with me."

"Really," said Staros. "And just what am I supposed to talk about? And if he's mad, WHY should I become the focus of his anger?"

"Look, father expects things of me. I'm supposed to be making friends and partners for my future while I'm in school. I'm also supposed to let him know about anything I think might be important to him. Trouble is, I don't trust the school owls and I'm not allowed a house elf like you. Could you just let him know I'll tell him everything at Christmas?"

Seeing the almost begging look in Draco's eyes, and knowing that what little he'd heard about dear Lucius made him sorry for Draco, Staros decided to pass along the message.

"On one condition. If your pops gets all squirrelly on me, I WILL come back and find a flight of stairs for you to fall down several times. Clear?"

"How dare… " started Draco on his usual tirade. Then he took a breath and let it out. "No, you're right. I understand. Father can be a bit… tedious at times."

Leaving the room after finishing up his robes, carrying a nice walking cane done in silver over cherry wood, and wearing his trademark cloak, this one in a deep royal blue with silver and purple trim, Staros made his way to the Headmaster's office. Once arriving, he quickly figured out that he had no idea how to get in. Before him stood a rather ugly gargoyle that completely blocked the entryway.

"Um… hello?" Staros nearly whispered. Raising his voice, he said, "Headmaster? Can you hear me? How do I get in?"

After a few moments, the gargoyle suddenly smiled quite wickedly at him before the whole section of wall he was attached to swung wide revealing a spiral staircase. A vague voice from the walls told him to step onto the stairs and he would be brought to the Headmaster's office. Somewhat mistrusting, Staros nevertheless stepped onto the stairs, all the while wondering why all the theatrics.

A short, weirdly spiraling kind-of-escalator trip later and Staros stood in front of a dark wooden door. He knocked twice and received Dumbledore's reply to enter. Opening the door, he walked into the office, and man, what an office. No one could ever doubt that THIS was a place for a wizard.

A large bookshelf lined one wall with tomes of various ages and sizes filling it. A large ornate wooden desk sat center the room with two comfortable looking chairs before it. A highly decorated fireplace quite a bit larger than was necessary for heating the room was off to the left. On the right was a very large window partially done in a fractal stained glass with no discernible pattern. Various tables and stands littered the rest of the floor near the walls, covered in bizarre and strange little gizmos, doo-hickeys, and oddities. Some were puffing smoke, others whirring away, still others doing nothing immediately obvious.

These things alone made the room an oddity. However, what defined the room as magic were the dozens of various sized paintings that adorned virtually every foot of space available on the walls. Each painting was exquisite in quality, framed beautifully, and hung with great care. They also were 'alive'!

Just like many of the paintings in the halls of Hogwarts, these paintings, every one, were moving, sleeping, reading, experimenting, empty, or having quiet discussions with each other.

"Welcome, young Mr. Marcus, welcome," said Dumbledore, rising from his overstuffed chair behind his desk. "Right on time I see. Excellent. Lemon drop?"

"Uh… no, thank you," stammered Staros, not quite sure what to make of this. He felt a little uneasy with all the eyes watching him.

"Have a seat then, let's talk about the boring world of Ministry politics," said Dumbledore, popping a lemon drop into his mouth.

Staros sat into one of the, yes very comfortable, chairs and tried to ignore all of the staring faces above, to the side, and behind him. He could almost FEEL them all staring. He decided he should probably get used to it if he expected to move any of the plans the Queen had laid out to his grandfather forward in the Wizengamot.

"Yes, I wanted to get your take on how things are normally done, sir. I've read a bit on procedure and protocol, but I don't know how up to date it is or who I should speak with or avoid speaking with. Any help you could give me there would be greatly appreciated," Staros said, trying his best to look comfortable and eager.

"Hmmm… I daresay that most of our procedures haven't changed much in many years. The last real changes happened during the war with Voldemort, but after his defeat, things went back to the way they were for the most part. Disappointing really." Dumbledore settled back into his chair, keeping his eyes on Staros.

"Now, I don't really want to impugn on the honor of the Wizengamot members, but there are a few who would be more interested in your votes than your wishes. Try to keep any dealings with Minister Fudge as public as possible. The man is a pure politician and often does more to look good than to be effective. There is a power block of darker families, many of whom were supporters of Voldemort in the war. You'll probably want to avoid associating too much with them as it may send the wrong message to others."

"Sir, until I know more about the history of the various groups, I wish to stay as neutral as possible. I have things I would like to accomplish, but right now, school is my main focus. I doubt I will attend more than the bi-annual meetings. I already have a proxy in mind for other meetings."

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "Few young people have such foresight! These are the years you should spend making friends, enjoying life, not worrying about what a bunch of old windbags are doddering about in a musty chamber!"

Staros smiled politely. "Yes, sir."

The next forty minutes were spent covering the basic protocols of announcing his assumption of the House Seat as well as people he should try to avoid. For the most part, many of the ones Snape had suggested avoiding were the same, but often for different reasons. Dumbledore also covered some of the other families and their usual voting tendencies.

The Notts, Goyles, Crabbes, Malfoy, Parkinson, and Everret all tended to vote with each other, period. In the same vein, Davis, Greengrass, Bruce, Carols, and Worthington also tended to vote together. The rest of the votes swung several different directions, many following certain power blocks, some without any identifiable patterns. A case in point was Minister Fudge's singular vote. He voted most often with Malfoy, but several times was seen to be opposed to his close advisor.

Another thing briefly discussed were the known proposals that would be in front of the Wizengamot today. Dumbledore impressed upon Staros that there was no need for him to actually vote on any matter since this was a review date and that he could request clarification of anything he did not understand, something that any member was able to take advantage of as needed. He also mentioned that this was often one of the main reasons why government, any government, was often slow to act because of the number of people who spent too much time talking without really saying anything new, often repeating the same speech several times to different questioners. Having watched CSPAN a couple of times, Staros knew this was true and had brought some snacks and a couple books to help.

A few of the issues Dumbledore knew were up that day included an adjustment to import taxes on certain potion ingredients, a ban on vagrants setting up 'stalls' to sell things or engage in questionable games of chance in public locations, and a petition for a family to gain a seat. The family in question was the Patils, having been in Britain the required amount of time, but not being successful in finding a sponsor to vote them in. This was to be their third attempt to gain a sponsor.


	20. Chance and ReChance

Finally the time came. Dumbledore instructed Staros on how to use the floo, which Staros thought was a completely ridiculous means of transportation, after all, portals had been around for almost fifty years, and they left for the Ministry.

Arriving via the Ministry's public floo entrances, Staros first stumbled out of the fireplace and nearly landed square on his face, but for running into some other individual coming out of a different floo. That person, who Staros never identified, caught the young boy and helped him gather himself together before vanishing into the crowds. His kind of landing must be common enough that no one really paid any attention. Dumbledore arrived shortly after this, the short delay obviously to make sure he didn't step on Staros while coming out of the floo.

The entrance room was enormous. At least twenty or more very large fireplaces lined the opposing walls while several sets of double doors lined the one end, probably leading out into London proper. The opposite end opened into the main lobby area where a massive set of golden statues, larger than life-size, in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of the two wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat, and each of the house-elf's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of people apparating in and out and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most of whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode toward a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.

Staying close to Dumbledore so as not to get lost amidst the confusion, Staros looked about with a mix of wonder and disappointment. While the statute was beautifully done, the image it portrayed was not one of harmony. While the openness of the entry area invited people to come and see their government in action, it was obvious that the vast majority of people present were employees. Unlike the US where tours were held hourly of the main governmental buildings, even while in use, no such evidence was found here. The statues in America were all of people or ideas that promoted harmony and democracy, even if the government in general fell short of the ideals. The comparison between his old home and new did nothing to make Staros feel any more welcome.

Putting aside such thoughts for now, Staros followed Dumbledore to the security entrance, one that was explained to him led to the Wizengamot chambers. As Staros was walking through, a rather lazy looking guard just happened to look up and see him. The man stood up and grabbed Staros by the arm.

"Hey now! No kids in the Wizengamot!" the man shouted, trying to drag Staros back. "This here's for House Lords and such, not little tykes!"

"Excuse me!" Staros replied rather hotly. "Let me go this instant you idiot!"

Dumbledore turned to see what the shouting was about and looked rather distressed at the scene. Walking back and laying a hand on the guard's shoulder, he said, "Really, sir, is such rough handling necessary? This boy is in my care and has an appointment with the Wizengamot."

The guard looked terrified at Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, etc. actually speaking to him and NOT for a good reason. Dropping his hand from Staros' arm, he stammered something that could be mistaken for an apology before trying to back away to his desk.

Staros was having none of that.

"Exactly!" Staros said, straightening his robes. "Honestly, just accosting a person who's walking by like that! Never mind that you could have simply ASKED before behaving so rudely. If this is an example of Ministry security, be sure I will be speaking with Madame Bones about this. What is your name, sir? I want to know who I am putting as an example of piss poor training and rude behavior."

The man, still shaken from Dumbledore's intervention, and seeing that Dumbledore was standing behind the boy like he supported him, just stammered out Eric Munch before managing to retreat to his desk and hide.

As the two continued towards the inner chambers, Dumbledore asked Staros not to be too harsh with Mr. Munch. He was after all, just doing his job.

"Sir, as much as I respect that he is doing his job, there is doing one's job and doing it properly. Security has no reason to act rudely unless dealing with an actual threat. A child walking through a door is not a threat. If an area is restricted, the man should simply stop the person and explain it as such, not go grabbing people willy-nilly with no idea who they are or what they are doing. I might let this incident go, let him stew a bit wondering when his boss will be coming down on him, but I certainly will NOT forget it."

Dumbledore sighed but nodded. Shaking his head at one so young being so serious, even though correct about Mr. Munch's rude behavior, Dumbledore led Staros through the halls of the Ministry, down deep into the chambers of the Wizengamot.

Stepping into the chamber, Staros was awed by the size of the room. Tier upon tier of seats, two very different groups of seats. The lower set, in a U shaped pattern facing a single raised seat and podium must be for the Houses. The upper set that just circled the room must be for spectators. What was surprising was the number of people in attendance. Since the bi-annual meetings were mandatory, all of the current House seats were filling up, but the number of spectators milling around the upper tiers was completely unexpected. Staros grinned as he idly wondered how well the American Congress would do with an audience.

Dumbledore showed Staros to his House seat and then bid him farewell as he had to go take his place as Chief Warlock. Staros nodded to him and stood looking at the chair his ancestors had sat in, passing laws, judging trials, and trying to push the agenda of their House founder. Brushing his hands across the sigil that made up the center of the House coat of arms, he was humbled by the history that the seat represented.

"Out of the way, boy!" an impatient voice snapped Staros out of his musings. "What are you doing here anyway? This is a meeting of the Wizengamot, not a nursery!"

Turning with a slight smile, Staros looked up at the man who was being so rude.

"So sorry, sir. Allow me to assist you to your seat. You're looking unwell and you should really sit down. Which seat did you say was yours?"

The man looked completely lost with a reply like this. 'Who is this upstart!' the man wondered.

Staros gently took the man by the elbow, as if dealing with an infirm elder and started to pull him towards seats further down. Still in shock, the man let himself be led for a few feet before suddenly realizing what was happening and yanking his arm from Staros.

"I can walk myself, boy!" the man said before shuffling off to a seat four down, muttering the whole time. Probably about whippersnappers and lawns.

Staros smiled, walked back and sat in his House chair. He felt immediately the magic of the room wash through him. With a slight gasp, he lost himself to the sensations of time. Flickers of scenes passed before his mind's eye. Votes, laws, trials, shouting, near mobs, people screaming for someone's head. Images of various things popped up here and there in perfect clarity while whole scenes came by as impressions, mere ghosts of their truths. In some cases, it was a person's face, in others whole scenes, still others just pages of parchment held in front of his face. There was sound in some impressions, others contained only a sense of what was happening. It felt like the entire history of the Wizengamot was being pressed into his skull.

He didn't know how long he sat like that, but when he became aware of the room around him then, a man to his left chuckled and asked, "It's a bit overwhelming the first time, isn't it?"

Staros looked blankly at the man for a few moments while his brain rebooted. Shaking his head, he said, "Wow! Does everyone go through that?"

"Yes and no. The older the House, the more intense it is from what I understand. Looked like you were lost to us for quite a while. I had wondered when someone was going to come and sit here. This chair has been empty the past decade."

Shaking his head again to clear the remaining cobwebs, Staros wondered why no one had informed him of this, and then realized it was probably part of a test or prank put to everyone who wanted to sit their House. Maybe a little of both.

"So sorry, where are my manners. I am Staros Aniken Marcus, here to claim my family seat on the Wizengamot. Pleased to meet you." Staros held his hand out to shake.

Taking his hand and shaking it firmly, the man next to him said, "James Tiberius Kirke, nice to meet you too, son."

"Captain Kirk?" Staros asked in awe. Seeing the confusion on the man's face he said, "Never mind. It's a… what do you call them? Ah, yes, it's a muggle thing. A character in a series of plays. I wonder if they borrowed your name or came up with it on their own?"

Shaking his head at the odd young boy next to him, James T. Kirke, NOT of the Starship Enterprise, sat back in his chair still chuckling over the whole thing. 'Ah, the youth today,' he thought.

A long, boring twenty minutes or so later, the rest of the Wizengamot had finally arrived and seated themselves. Dumbledore stood at his podium for a moment, looking over the assembled persons and noting any empty chairs. It seemed all had arrived that were able to attend in person, or had sent their legally appointed proxies. A few chairs were empty except for a single carved runestone, denoting that another seat holder had control of that vote. A bit of a shock was the small line of five seats towards the back that all contained a runestone of amethyst, not seen in many, many years. It seemed that the Queen had decided to partake in the game once again.

Knocking his gavel upon the podium, Dumbledore called the people to attention.

"All ye present, we hereby called this one thousand, nine-hundred seventeenth meeting of the Wizengamot to order. The doors are sealed, the room barred. All not in attendance by person, proxy, or submission are hereby stripped of their seat. So be it."

The formality of the introduction over, Dumbledore sat back down and gestured to the scribe to begin the docket. A very old man, Ogden Tiberius stood and picked up a scroll from his desk. Unfurling it, he began to read the opening dockets.

"We have gathered this day to examine the proposals for articles seventy-three, ninety-one, and an amendment to the Dangerous Creature Act put into law in nineteen-hundred-seventy-six, re-examine the regulations for articles one hundred eighteen and one hundred thirty-seven, to induct into his seat, Lord Staros Aniken Marcus. We also have a petition set to grant a seat to House Patil. This meeting is now is session and from hence forth, is recorded into history."

Sitting back down, Ogden waved his wand at a set of nine quills that were attached to nine desks next to him. The quills stood up and began scratching out the words he had just spoken and would continue to record everything said until the end of the gathering.

"Yes, thank you, Ogden," said Dumbledore. "Our first order of business shall be the induction of young Lord Marcus. Lord Marcus, would you please rise and make your introductions?"

Staros stood and looked around smiling, pushing the little boy image a touch far.

"Thank you, Professor… I mean, Chief Warlock. Sorry, force of habit there," Staros said, hearing more than a few chuckles at his 'slip up.'

"I stand before this august body today to take up the Lordship of my family. I have been sworn and confirmed by the Queen, taken up her sword, and been formally given leave to reign in the stead of my Head of House, Astrix Daniel Marcus, who shall retain the title of Head of Family. Though I am only just turned eleven, I shall strive to meet the needs of my House and perform my duties as required by Her Majesty."

Dumbledore frowned slightly at the last statement. By saying Her Majesty instead of the Wizengamot, Staros had declared himself a hand of the Queen and not a mere member of the group he stood with. Of course, his coaching was three hundred years out of date and he might have simply said what he was taught. 'I'm getting too old for all these games,' thought Dumbledore, sighing slightly.

Staros sat back down amidst a smattering of polite applause. He hadn't expected a standing ovation by any means, but even still, it was rather quiet. Some of the people there looked positively bored; others murderous especially that horrendously dressed round lady there next to… the Minister if Staros recognized the man from the pictures correctly. Sitting back, he waited for the extreme boredom to continue, glad for the occlumency training of his grandfather to sustain him.

He was not disappointed.


	21. Chance Findings

The articles being examined today, which apparently meant they would be voted on later, were various import-export tariffs on certain potions ingredients, many of which were currently classed as 'Dark' for some odd reason, and bill to prevent random people from setting up stalls or booths in trade areas like Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade without permits. The last seemed perfectly reasonable, but something was off. Staros resolved to send it to grandfather to look over and see if he could offer insights. Those two bills took 'only' three hours.

Lunch was a nice affair, with everyone traditionally confined to the room, only house elves were allowed in and out, delivering a rather pleasant meal of cold sandwiches and various drinks. Nothing heavy or alcoholic to prevent nodding off or drunken brawls, both of which had been traditionally ignored, and altogether common, in the long past.

After lunch were the amendments and re-examinations. The re-examinations first covered a regulation about cauldron bottom thickness and actually stretched out over and hour and a half of numbers, expectations, savings, losses, etc. Even his occlumency was straining to keep him awake during this tirade. The second bill covered involved the charges on post owls, which apparently went directly to the Ministry as they owned the vast majority of public usage owls. This was the shortest discussion yet as no one seemed to actually care about the two knut raise.

The final matter involved the enactment of werewolf restrictions that had apparently been blocked during the first pass through of the bill. During this almost contrived argument, several members of the 'For' and 'Against' parties made dull but pointed speeches, waved a lot of vague numbers around, and proceeded to confuse people. Staros' temper was getting the best of him.

"Point of contention, Chief Warlock," said Staros, shocking many as they never expected a child to speak up.

Dumbledore looked worried about such a young political figure, in years as well as experience, making any kind of statement, but rules were rules.

"Proceed," he said gravely.

"I know I am new to this, but I have been at my grandfather's side for many occasions that involved the law making in America and California. I am aware of how Britain feels about your 'Lost Colonies' as so many refer to them, but that is irrelevant."

"What do we care of the Americans?" said a fellow on the opposite side of the room.

"Sir, I believe I have the floor," said Staros rather coldly, much to everyone's surprise, "and I do not appreciate your rudeness. However, I will answer your question... Mr… ?"

"Carris, Lord Marcus. My apologies." Staros nodded in reply.

Gathering himself up, Staros knew this was a moment that could make or break him forever in the political arena. Eleven years old or not, he HAD to show that he was a force to be reckoned with.

"America is a young country, but currently on the rise to being the world's greatest power, both mundane and magical. It is comprised of groups from all areas of the world and as such has created a unique perspective for dealing with the disparate groups.

"In America, and specifically, the magical California since it never joined the Union, the werewolf populations, amongst other semi-dangerous species, are all required to register themselves and where they live. Each community that contains a registered individual has either a containment facility or a portal to one depending on the number living in the area. They have jobs, they work, they help pay for their protections. Those that have the skills manufacture wolfsbane potions for the containment facilities while others gather the ingredients or grow them in private gardens.

"We didn't discriminate against them, nor hold them under the lash. We allowed them the same rights as others while protecting ourselves from the once a month occurrence. We also gave them a lot of leeway to police themselves. Should one of their number become a danger to others, we allow them to respond first. Trust me when I say a pack that is forced to turn on an individual for the safety of the pack does so with great ferocity.

"For us here in Britain to ignore such an obviously well-functioning idea merely because of its source would make us worse than the creatures and species we call dangerous. The monarchy has heard the will of the people and moved forward with the times. It is time for magical Britain to do so as well. Let us start with ensuring that this law is both fair and just while protecting both sides of this disease.

"I am now willing to debate and cede the floor," Staros said, looking over to the man who had spoken earlier. The person in question at least had the humility to not speak up immediately.

A large number of people looked shocked that a child could speak with such formality and knowledge. To say nothing of the absolute good sense of the ideas. Several of the elderly looked thoughtful, most of the younger looked outraged. That unpleasantly round lady next to the Minister looked like she was about to have a fit. She stood up before anyone else could say anything.

"Thank you for that… innocent little speech, young Mr. Marcus, but the views of a child have no place in the Ministry," she began, smiling sweetly.

"Excuse me," Staros cut in, "Chief Warlock, who is this woman?"

"I am Dolores Umbridge, the Undersecretary to the Minister and you will…"

"I did not speak to you, madame," said Staros. If people thought he had spoken coldly to Mr. Carris, then he now spoke in tones reminding many of the northern winds during the bleakest winter. Some of the older members hid smiles at the boy's brazen attitude towards the little liked woman, others wondered if he was just being snotty. "I should remind you to address any member of this body with their proper title and respect. Since you have introduced yourself but seem to have forgotten who I am, I shall remind you. I am Lord Staros Aniken Marcus, Earl of Moneda and Foula. The proper terms of address are Your Grace or My Lord as appropriate."

The little round woman stared at Staros with absolute venom in her eyes. She seemed about to say something else when Staros cut her off.

"Forgive me, Master Tiberius, but I wish to know if Ms. Umbridge sits on the Wizengamot. I only ask as I do not recall her name being on the rolls of the assembly."

The old man looked a might confused for the briefest of moments, probably because it was so rare he was ever addressed by anyone other than Dumbledore. He then picked out a scroll from the pile on his desk and scanned through it. Standing, he handed the scroll to Dumbledore, pointing at a section.

"It seems Ms. Umbridge does not, in fact, hold a seat in the Wizengamot," said Dumbledore. "Voting seats include the Minister and the Head of the DMLE and Unspeakables, but not the Undersecretary. Madame Umbridge, please try not to interrupt our proceedings again."

Dumbledore did not look happy to be saying this, but Ms. Umbridge looked positively furious. She didn't make any more of a scene, however, and merely nodded politely to Dumbledore and sat back down. She stared murder at Staros the rest of the session, a fact that Staros took notice of, but ignored for now. He sat ramrod straight in his chair, looking every inch the Lord he claimed to be.

"I apologize for my abruptness, lords and ladies. As I said earlier, I cede the floor to legitimate debate." The slight emphasis on legitimate caused a couple of members here and there to chuckle at the obvious insult to Ms. Umbridge, but otherwise passed unremarked.

Over the next hour, the issues Staros had brought up were discussed and bantered about with a lot more liveliness than the previous articles.

Issues of cost. "They cover their own costs, we merely provide standards for the confinement facilities. Like taxes paying for jails."

Issues about controls. "Let them do most of it. Saves us money paying for extra Aurors. Werewolves follow pack instincts and packs have very strict rules."

Issues about workplace safety. "Anyone stupid enough to insist that a werewolf, vampire, or other changeling stay at work during those times known to be dangerous should be held responsible for endangering their other employees and also deserves whatever reprisals their stupidity nets them."

Many people had questions and many more interesting answers, but time was approaching a late dinner and the end of the day for the Wizengamot. Finally, nearing seven, Dumbledore called for the matter to be recognized for proposals, written and disbursed, and called for the final item on the docket, the Patil Family petition.

Staros perked up a bit with this. He had already studied the dossier his grandfather had sent him. The Patils were a very old Indian family with many business ties across the world. While gaining a seat in Britain's Wizengamot was, perhaps, a minor thing, for the status it brought, was considered worth the gamble.

A middle-aged man with dark skin and wearing very Britain traditional wizard's robes walked to the center of the floor. First looking around the assembly in a dramatic fashion, he then faced Dumbledore and bowed low. The man seemed confident of himself, but Staros knew from dealing with his grandfather that the man was probably a complete wreck inside. This was a gamble on his part, and likely one that losing meant serious consequences back home.

"Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, I thank you for this chance to speak before you and to bring my petition to join your glorious ranks. I am Iravan Patil. My family has been a part of England for eight generations, running the now completely magical East India Company. With your blessing, we ask to be allowed a voice in our governance."

Mr. Patil stood patiently. For several minutes, no one spoke. Just as the man's shoulders slumped slightly, thinking that none would sponsor him, Staros stood up.

"I would stand for this man. I will vouch for his honor and that of his family." Staros sat back down amidst whispers and small arguments. Dumbledore smiled slightly. He then banged his gavel to quiet the room and asked Ogden to note the vote for the Patil family's seat on the next meeting. Mr. Patil looked at Staros and nodded slightly in thanks before leaving the floor.

With the last item out of the way, Dumbledore closed the Wizengamot meeting with a short summary of things to be voted on the next meeting, the scheduling of which would place it somewhere in mid-January after all of the holidays were done.


	22. Chance Letters

As the Wizengamot broke up, Staros made his way quickly over to Dumbledore so as not to be involved in anyone trying to 'persuade' him one way or another. That, and Dumbledore was Staros' ride back to the school.

As he reached Dumbledore, Staros saw Mr. Patil standing with him.

"I wanted to thank you, young man, for sponsoring my family. If there is anything I can do to replay you, please do not hesitate to ask," said Mr. Patil.

Staros smiled slightly.

"Sir, while I am only eleven, even I know how far that statement could be taken. I am in school with your daughters after all."

Mr. Patil paled slightly as several meanings to his own words came to mind. Seeing him starting to panic, Staros laughed lightly.

"Don't worry about it, sir. I'm only eleven and have no designs on your girls. It'll be a while before I have any interest in those matters. Anyway, I only gave you the opening. No risk on my part really. Now you have to convince a bunch of the others to vote for you."

Mr. Patil saw he was being joked with, maybe, and calmed down. He looked down at this boy who had just managed to scare a fully grown man with perfect timing and realized that those eyes were far older than the body they were in. He had seen this before, in some of the children in India who could remember their past lives. It often faded as their memories became clouded by their current lives. Thanking the boy again, he left the two to try and bolster some support for his case before the next meeting.

"Are you finished frightening us old men, young Staros?" asked Dumbledore, peering over his glasses. "Or do you have anyone else you'd like to give a minor heart attack to?"

"Actually, professor, I do have a couple more stops to make before we leave. Do you see Lucius Malfoy or Nathaniel Greengrass around? I can't see so well with all you tall people."

Chuckling outwardly, Dumbledore had a spike of fear shoot through him that the boy wanted to speak with Malfoy. Looking around, he saw Lucius standing near the Minister, as always, and pointed to him before leading his young charge through the crowd.

Staros followed along-side Dumbledore and tried to listen to everything around him. Disappointingly, very little was being said about the proposals made today and more was gossip about what others were wearing, who was rising or falling in status, and juicier tidbits that would have made him blush to overhear were it not for his being 'vaccinated' by his two older brothers.

As they neared the Minister and Lucius, Staros squared himself as he caught sight of the, oh, so friendly, Ms. Umbridge. Walking a little faster, he changed his following to a stride that was almost more like he led Dumbledore instead of the other way around. Setting himself for what promised to be a rather lukewarm greeting, he walked right up to Lucius Malfoy.

"Good day, Mr. Malfoy. Splendid meeting today, wouldn't you say? And Minister Fudge, how nice to meet you. The Prime Minister had several nice things to say about you when I spoke with him this last summer."

"Ah, yes, um, Lord Marcus. Yes, nice to meet you as well, my boy," stammered Fudge.

It looked like Ms. Umbridge was going to say something, but the icy look Staros directed towards her caused her to remain silent for now.

"What can we do for you, Mr. Marcus," asked Lucius in his silky smooth voice.

'Oh, this guy is good,' thought Staros.

"Oh? Do for me, Lucius? I can call you Lucius, right? Since you're being so familiar with me and all. But no, I don't need anything from you, I'm just passing on a message as a favor to a classmate. Your son, Draco, said he'd explain things come Christmas break. Said you'd know what he meant. All very cloak and dagger if you ask me, but Draco's not the sharpest tack in the desk. Sad really. Anyway, I was just doing a small favor, nice to see you both, ta-ta for now!" Staros rattled off, leaving both men staring into space as he walked away with Dumbledore trying to look like he wasn't running to catch up, having also been caught unawares by Staros' little act.

Dumbledore was quickly running things through his head. This young boy had just managed to insult both the Minister of Magic and Lucius Malfoy in what was nearly a single run-on sentence and leave them speechless with the speed of it and walk away unscathed. A large part of Dumbledore was trying very hard not to laugh at his less than desirable colleagues, while another part was trying to figure out what this boy's agenda could be. So far, his biggest clue was the Queen.

As they made their way towards the floos, Dumbledore saw Lord Greengrass off to one side and pointed him out to Staros. Changing directions, the two walked up to Lord Greengrass talking with a couple of other men, and not enjoying the matter from the looks of things.

"…Look Nott, I don't care what the outcome of your…" Lord Greengrass was saying as they walked up.

"Excuse me, sirs," interrupted Staros, "You would be Lord Nathaniel Greengrass, correct?"

The man addressed as Nott and his companion looked very unhappy to have this conversation interrupted, by a boy and Dumbledore no less, but said nothing about it.

"Yes, I am. Ah, you are our newest member, Lord Marcus, wasn't it?" Greengrass looked like a man in the sea grabbing at anything to stay afloat.

"Quite right, sir," said Staros. "Please gentlemen, I need to borrow Lord Greengrass for a moment. Family business and whatnot. I'm sure you understand."

Staros, for all of being eleven in a room of adults, gestured Lord Greengrass to a private corner away from Nott and company as if he belonged there more than they did. Greengrass, without really trying to hide it, latched onto the excuse to leave his conversation with Nott far behind as he walked away with Staros and Dumbledore.

Reaching a small alcove, Greengrass turned to Staros and said, "My boy, while I appreciate you saving me from what was turning into a nasty argument, you'd better have a damned good reason for accosting me like that."

Dumbledore stood off to one side, both appearing to give the two their privacy while obviously still keeping an ear in on them. Staros appreciated the gesture, but also wished he had more time with Lord Greengrass.

"Nothing much, sir. Just a letter from your daughter," Staros said, pulling the scroll he'd been given from a pocket. "She threatened me with bodily harm if I did not deliver it safely into your hands alone."

Greengrass, knowing too well his daughter's cold temper, believed the young boy before him about her threats, but still looked at the seal for any signs of tampering and assuring himself that it was indeed from Daphne. Seeing the coded marks on the seal and that it was intact, he nodded and put it into an inner pocket of his own robes.

"Thank you. I shall read it at home and owl her a reply."

"My duty is complete then, sir," Staros said rather dramatically, bowing to Greengrass. "I look forward to another chat sometime, miLord, but for now, I really should be going. I'll inform Daphne about your response."

Lord Greengrass chuckled at the boy's antics, resolving to learn a bit more about the lad in the future before walking off to a floo point to leave before Nott found him again.

Dumbledore and Staros floo'd back to Hogwarts without any further incident, said their goodnights, and Staros left for the Slytherin common room, after asking if an elf could bring him a light supper to eat in the common room as he had missed the normal feast in the Great hall. As soon as he walked through the archway, Draco was 'right there.'

"Well?" asked the less than patient boy.

"Yes, yes, I passed your little message on to your father, right after the Wizengamot meeting was over. Now can I eat my dinner in peace?" said Staros rather abruptly. He nudged past Draco and stalked over to a desk to plop down. An elf appeared a few moments later with a plate of grilled fish, a small salad, and a bottle of grape juice, one of Staros' favorite drinks. Settling himself down while Draco walked away, Staros noticed Daphne with Tracey stalking towards him. Sighing, he realized his dinner was likely to be anything but peaceful.

"Before you start grilling me, ladies, could we wait for Blaise? Then I only have to go over it once. Oh, and your father said he'd owl you, by the way."

Daphne stopped short, and then nodded once before sitting down in a chair she pulled over towards Staros' desk. Tracey instead walked over to the boy's dorm hallway and shouted for Blaise in a very, very loud and non-Slytherin manner, causing many people to jump in fright. Smirking, she turned around and walked back to the others, pulled over another chair, and sat across it, legs dangling over one arm. Blaise came nearly running out of the hall a moment later, saw them, and pulled his own chair over and sat down, wondering what all the fuss was about.

Staros deliberately ignored them all while he tried, only somewhat successfully, to enjoy his meal. When Daphne's usually calm and composed face started to develop a slight twitch, he decided that pushing her too much further may risk life, limb, and certainly fatherhood if he kept it up.

"Have any of you watched grass grow? I don't mean magically, but normally?" asked Staros. Seeing the look of confusion on their faces, he continued. "That's pretty much what a Wizengamot meeting is like. Insanely boring and making you wonder why you haven't killed anyone, including yourself, just to relive the monotony."

With that opening, Staros briefly described both meetings with Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore. He then proceeded to detail the long, dull session of the Wizengamot and his choice to sponsor Patil. Several times he had to stop and go back over some of the werewolf issues, and the others were not convinced about his concerns over the stalls. Tracey seemed more concerned with the tariffs, which in turn led her to tell the others about her family's business in ingredients imports. Blaise mentioned that nobody ever thought much about the cost of owl post, but that the insignificant raise would net millions for the Ministry during the course of the year, surprising the others with some quick math and showing how much a couple of knuts per person, per day, week, or month for EACH letter sent would add up. They all wondered where that money would go.

"Why did you support Patil?" Daphne asked.

"Hmm? Oh, well, it's simple really. For virtually no risk to myself, I gain a possible solid ally in the future. If his seat is voted favorably, he owes me. If he is turned down, he still owes me for the attempt. If he gets in, his business prospects go up drastically and I stand to make some money. If he doesn't get in, I can still make money, just not as much."

"So, it's about money and has nothing to do with the twins?"

Casting Daphne a sly smirk that the other two didn't catch, Staros said, "No, like I told him, I'm only eleven. Not really thinking like that yet. Besides, how could I want the twins when I have a lovely beauty like you at my side?"

"What? You! I mean!" spluttered Daphne, her cold façade shattered for the moment. A few seconds of this and then she regained control. Giving the laughing Tracey a look of death, she stood up and walked away and towards the girls' dorms.

"Got her good that time, mate," said Blaise, slightly in awe, "but you know she's going to make you regret it."

Tracey shook her head, got up and followed Daphne's exit, casting back over her shoulder, "I think he's looking forward to it."

Finishing his dinner and chatting some more with Blaise, Staros then decided that his weekend homework could wait until tomorrow and bid Blaise goodnight before leaving for bed.


	23. Christmas Chances

The rest of November passed quickly. Staros continued to learn the sword and staff plus helped teach a few others. Most tried it a few times and dropped the hobby. A few stayed on. Most notably, Draco came around every few days to spar with him and Neville was working with Carcerous on the English long sword, stating once that it was part of the family traditions. Most surprising were Hermione and Susan Bones. Hermione said that and uncle of hers had shown her some basic defense moves in case she got into any trouble, and Susan just said her aunt was Madame Bones, as if that explained everything. Daphne, Tracey and Blaise came around and participated sporadically, Tracey more often than not spending the time laughing at others' failures or teaching Carcerous better ways to say something purely evil, sarcastic and insulting, which Carcerous took to like a duck to water.

Things continued in that vein until the middle of December when one slightly less than freezing to death morning, at least according to sunny California raised Staros, Hogwarts awoke to the sight of a blanket of snow covering the grounds. The lake had already frozen over by then, prompting Carcerous to try and get people to fight on the ice, something only a few would try even once. Hagrid had taken up residence for a few days in the owlry in order to nurse several owls back to health after distressful flights through the previous night's snows.

Impromptu snowball fights broke out repeatedly that first day, earning many students sharp words, a few detentions, and a couple of points lost here and there. The pinnacle of the day turned out to be, of course, the Weasley twins who both earned detentions and were actually awarded points for excellent charms work by Professor Flitwick after they successfully managed to convince several snowballs to follow Professor Quirrelll around most of the day, repeatedly bouncing off the back of his turban.

Most of Slytherin house avoided the snowball fights, but the younger years were granted some leeway in regards to 'childish antics' as it was often described. Blaise and Staros were ambushed by Ron and Harry after herbology, which led to several others being drawn into the small inter-house war. Even poor, shy Neville was drafted as was Tracey and Daphne. Daphne turned out to be surprisingly good at getting snowballs to curve around the quickly thrown up forts outside the greenhouses. Everyone had a good laugh when Staros was buried under his fort, which collapsed under its own weight, before Professor Sprout, firmly but smiling the whole time, put an end to the activities, likely fearing damage to her greenhouses.

Christmas break looming on the horizon, the Heads of House each took a count of the students that would be staying over for the break. This, of course, led to another Draco and Harry confrontation one late morning during potions.

"I do feel so sorry," Draco started, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled at the slight directed towards Harry, who had developed a decent ability to ignore Draco, most of the time. It was odd, Draco could be very polite when he wanted to, but other times turned into a snide little rat that no one could stand. Since the defeat of Slytherin during the Quidditch match, he seemed to poke fun at Harry more and more often, so much so that most in Slytherin were now getting bored with the less than imaginative insults. This detail never seemed to sink in, however, so the little tirades continued.

Much to Staros' regret, Daphne and Tracey were going home for the holidays. Blaise was sticking around, mostly due to his mother currently dating what would probably become her seventh husband and he wanted nothing to do with the 'sickening displays of mutually overactive libidos' that he assured everyone was not even close to the horrifying truth. Only a few other Slytherins were staying over, mainly some of the fifth and seventh years who had OWLs and NEWTs respectively and were studying like mad.

In fact, it seemed that very few students from any house were staying behind for the holidays, again mostly fifth and seventh years, but also a smattering of others like Ron and the Twins who said they were staying because their parents were visiting their older brother Charlie in Romania. Susan Bones was staying behind because her aunt's schedule rarely left time for her to be home for her. She would be using the headmaster's floo to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with her, then be back later that day. Staros briefly considered taking a flight back to California, but decided that he needed to acclimate to England, and English Christmas was a part of that duty. To that end, he sent Carcerous out to discretely pick up gifts and cards for pretty much the entire school, save a few special ones he ordered in himself.

Not sure of exactly how personal he should get, Staros spent a lot of time looking over various catalogues for the proper gifts. Daphne was going to be the hard one, as was Harry. Ron was as easy as most of the school, Staros having sent some candy and a card to just about everyone with a simple Merry Christmas. Signing all those cards himself had almost caused him severe cramping but Madame Pomfrey took care of him, and even complimented him on his efforts before showing him the copy charm that most people used for such tasks, normally taught in third year. This made things MUCH simpler, and much less painful.

Hermione was an odd one to get a gift for. After finding out her parents were dentists, he nixed the idea of candy like he'd sent most others he didn't know well. Mulling it over, he realized she spent a lot of time in the library and that usually meant a person who loved books. She was also classed as a 'know-it-all' by the majority of her year-mates. Finally settling on a couple of books involving British wizard customs, ones he had copies of himself, he sent those off as her presents.

Coming across a catalogue he'd not looked through yet, Staros found a wide array of jewelry. Inspiration hitting him like a freight train, he began to order simple pieces for those he felt deserving. For Harry, Blaise, and Neville, he found several nice clasps for their school robes, done in the house designs. Not too personal, but tasteful and practical. For Tracey he found a necklace that screamed Goth being a small raven clutching a skull in its talons. Lastly, for Daphne he found a very nice charm bracelet that she probably wouldn't kill him over. Maybe.

Staros looked through more traditional catalogues for adult gifts to give to the faculty. He settled on simple things like new name plaques for their desks for those he had yet to have classes with. The ones he was more familiar with, he looked harder for. For the ghost Binns, Staros actually tossed a coin to see if he should even get the almost non-existent person anything. Coming up 'Yes,' he settled for the plaque he had gotten the others simply because there was almost nothing to the 'man'.

Professor Sprout he sent several American plant seeds to, mainly ones used by the Hopi Indians for their magic. Professor Flitwick was to receive a bookie's tablet direct from the Bronx. Staros wasn't sure if the little professor would like it or not, but felt that he would definitely appreciate the humor. For Hagrid, Staros found a reinforced tea set that would probably turn the big man into a five year old for days.

Despite the general student dislike of the man, Staros managed to convince the majority of the Slytherins to sign the card he was sending to Filch. Many considered it a waste of time, but Staros' argument that any form of recognition could make the man return the favor by looking the other way a few times made them risk it. The librarian, Ms. Pince, was a downright scary woman. In the tradition of librarians everywhere, she went out of her way to protect her precious domain from the ravages of children. With that in mind, Staros ordered her a small set of magical bookplates charmed to help preserve the books from common issues like rain, spills, being dropped, and especially ink. In a brief moment of pure school spirit, he managed to convince virtually every student to sign the card included with it, with the same reasoning as he used with Filch's.

For Professor Snape, Staros sent away for a set of alchemical weights and measures from the Flammel Brothers similar to his own. Professor McGonagall was given a pair of Egyptian cat statue bookends and Madame Pomfrey a set of the nicer hospital scrubs used the world over by high ranking nurses.

Professor Sinistra was easy as Staros got her a couple of decent mundane telescopes that were far superior to the magically created ones currently used. His card specified that they were not for the students to use unless she trusted them implicitly since they were far more fragile than their magical counterparts.

The last gift he specified was less for the professor in particular and could be called a gift to the school. After the debacle of their first flight class, Staros had been discretely sending letters to dozens of broom manufacturers. Each had responded positively in varying degrees. The grand total of the responses ended up with Staros having a decent collection of basic brooms, many had simply been in storage of the various companies, being older, outdated models. Altogether, fifty-three brooms had been delivered already, with another one hundred and seventy more to come by year's end. The first delivery would be made directly to Madame Hooch's office the day after Christmas.

Another series of letters were written as well, this time to all the people who had sent him invitations to various Christmas and New Year's gatherings held by the upper crust of magical Britain. Knowing he'd be way out of his league there, he asked a few older Slytherins how to reply with a 'No' and not sound insulting while also apologizing for not being able to attend. Several people gave him slightly different advice, but it all added up to a very nice rejection. One girl he asked even pointed out a few ways to gain advantage from the refusal. When Staros asked why she would do so, she simply replied, "It's all part of the game, silly boy."

With advice in hand he spent a good several hours penning replies to about two dozen people. In it he said how he regretfully could not attend their function, citing school and previous engagements with friends. He made overtures to attend the following year condition being that he felt he would be able to mingle without fear of creating any social awkwardness. He went as far as to include the girl's statements about how he was currently seeking an advisor to help him run his House and prevent any mistakes on his part. She told his how this would both excuse him from many mistakes he might make as well as set them all scrabbling to try and either find an advisor under their control, or make themselves his advisor if possible. After he thought about it, he chuckled over her little bit of chaos that would be sowed amongst the ruling elite.

During all of this, Hermione had them trying to research Nicholas Flammel. Staros' mention of the Flammel Brothers gave them a start, but so far, their searching had turned up nothing. The man wasn't mentioned in any of the Who's Who type books. They found nothing in _Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century_ or _Notable Magical Names of Our Times_, although the Flammel Brothers, Igor and Allain, both in New York, were in _Notable_. The man also wasn't found in lesser books like _Important Magical Discoveries _or _A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry_. Of course, the sheer size of the library didn't help. Thousands of books across hundreds of shelves, private study rooms, and little spin off sections, all spanning three floors and a large chunk of said floors not to mention the restricted section which took up an unknown amount of space seeing as they weren't allowed in there yet.


	24. History of Chance

During the course of the hunt, which Hermione led with lists of topics to search and dividing up the library into sections to be done in turn, Staros found a remarkable book off in a completely hidden away alcove. A single massive volume rested alone on a pedestal, opened roughly to its center. Staros walked up to it and glanced across the pages, then started flipping through them. He was amazed at the volume of information he just discovered, despite it not being related to their search.

On a hunch, Staros turned the cover over and closed the book to read the title. The stiffness of the book, despite the lack of any form of dust, likely due to the house elves, spoke of the rarity of anyone finding and reading the tome. Looking over the title, Staros discovered he was correct and that he had found THE _Hogwarts: A History_. Flipping the book back open, he idly turned some pages and read a few entries. This was definitely a book he would have to become more familiar with!

The first several chapters seemed to have been written entirely by hand by several people. Detailed within were the construction of Hogwarts, families involved, introductory classes, changes, and a wealth of information about the Founders, much of which seemed to have been written BY the Founders if the signatures were real. Not having the time to really start on this treasure, Staros made sure that he knew where it was located and marked the path back to it while finding his way back to the others. He decided for now that he would keep this to himself until he could learn more. He smiled as he thought about how Hermione and Daphne would react to this when he finally told them.

With everyone leaving for Christmas break, Hermione extracted a promise from all and sundry to, very discretely, check into other libraries over the break to see if they could find anything on Nicholas Flammel. Staros asked if he should try writing to the Flammel Brothers, which everyone was agree to be a long shot, but decided it might be worth it. She also made Ron and Harry promise to keep looking through the library at Hogwarts, but Staros managed to avoid making the same promise with the excuse of having some private research he was concentrating on. He refused to tell her what it was, saying it was a special project. He also, very politely, turned down her help stating that he 'wasn't Ron' which caused her to smile, Harry and Tracey to laugh, Ron to cry out indignantly, and the rest to smirk or chuckle a bit. She struggled with it a bit, but let it go.

Once everyone had departed, and while Ron was teaching Harry Wizard's Chess and poor Harry losing horribly, Staros finally got a good chance to look over the Hogwarts' History Grimoire as he started calling it. Being as quiet as it was and with only the OWL and NEWT students using the library on occasion, he had very few interruptions.

The first hundred pages or so detailed the story behind the Founders decision to build the school. Each of them had separately put down their reasons, and while small details differed, the majority reasoning was simple, sound, and quite noble. Hogwarts was hardly the first magical school founded in history, but the others tended to specialize in a specific area of magic, were in horribly remote locations for protection from anti-magical mobs, or had been destroyed by various events through history. Hogwarts was to change that.

It appeared that Salazar Slytherin, being in the courts of King Aethelwulf of England, and Godric Gryffindor, from the courts of Coinneach mac Ailpein, King of the Picts, met first through mutual masters that knew each other and shared the occasional odd spell. At a time when most magic was taught via the master/apprentice system and only the wealthy nobles could afford to keep a sorcerer, this chance meeting would start to alter history in ways that no one could understand. Young and brash, both, they were disgusted with the current methods of trying to find suitable apprentices and the need to teach them in remote locations, i.e. the typical 'wizard's tower' of popular legends, which was often more of a hut than a tower. Over several years, they concocted a plan to build a magnificent fortress dedicated to the ideals of magic. Of course, this would remain a dream of two youths but for one simple occurrence.

During the summer of 853, a minor skirmish, war, feud, whatever broke out between the several families in Scotland and northern England along the Marches. During that time, Britain was broken up into numerous small kingdoms, duchies, etc. and most notably, that there were separate royal lines for Scotland and England. When the small conflict threatened to become a major war, certain houses with loyalties to both sides of the line were commanded to end it. Slytherin and Gryffindor were instrumental in ceasing the hostilities and were granted a special lordship that tied them to the lands of Britannia rather than to specific kingdoms. In a particularly surprising move of unity, the High King of Ireland, Máel Sechnaill mac Máele Ruanaid, sent his emissary for the magical world, Rowenna Ravenclaw, to support the move. From the lands of Wales, King Rhodri Mawr ap Merfyn sent his emissary, Helga Hufflepuff, to join with the others. Both of these kings had been advised of the potential necessity for the future of Britain by the same sources according to Helga and Rowenna's accounts.

After some arguments, the lands in far northern Scotland were decided to be granted for the foundation of the castle. Agreements were also made that the school would not answer to any of the singular kingdoms of Britain, but to all Britannia. This later led to the formation of the Wizengamot as an advisory council and liaisons to the kings for magical Britain. Special treaties were hammered out, mainly by the magicals, that covered the holding of titles, succession, laws, and all the things needed to cover dealing with common born magical children and their place in the newly formed magical Britain as well as the rights of the peoples, the authority of the Lords and Ladies, etc. Staros knew that since several of the royal lines had ties in the magical world, their authority remained in force and with the amalgamation of British rulers into the current royal line, the Queen held singular authority over magical Britain.

Very few today really knew how all of this managed to happen, but here it was, all detailed out in this tome. Staros looked down at the agreements signed by the four kings, the Founders, and noted a singular signature as binding witness to the magical oaths that still protect the school to current day. Alexis Tiburon Marcus, his several times great grandfather. Staring down at the page, history lessons he barely paid any attention to came flooding back, the history of the Marcus line. Here, right in front of him, was the proof of Keeper's lessons. He smiled as he thought he should really send an apology to the bizarre old man.

What followed the agreements was an accounting of the construction of Hogwarts. Included were all of the families that contributed material or labor to the cause. It seemed that just because the Founders were great wizards and witches, they still couldn't build a castle solely by magic. It took over twenty years for the core of Hogwarts to be built, the grounds tamed and creatures for the Forest imported to the preserves set aside for them. According to Rowenna's account, nothing of the size and magnitude had been attempted since Camelot or Hadrian's Wall.

Staros realized that studying this tome would take an enormous amount of time. He also needed to check some of the statements in it, but he was pretty sure that some of the things he had already read about were the kinds of things that started legends and became myth. And that would rock a society's foundations and drop its citizens to their knees.

Another project that Staros was finally able to get around to was studying his magical laptop. While he had gone over the basics during the weeks after it arrived, he hadn't gotten a good chance to look into what it could do and come up with ways to make it better. Draco had made a few suggestions already, surprising several people, especially since his first suggestion was about runic arrays, a topic far advanced from their current studies.

Draco had said that if the computer could do math the way Staros said it could, then it should be able to process complex Arithmancy calculations. Showing that it could do pictures and allow a person to change pictures easily led to the suggestion of using it to design rune sets since runes were basically pictures. That way a complex rune or spell structure could be easily studied and altered before finalizing it, without the messy stacks of crumpled parchment that usually accompanied such work. Staros was highly impressed with the ideas and wrote them down to send back to his father.

Since Staros now had the time to look it over, he got onto the laptop and started using it. He had played with a few features, but never got in depth with them. Noting that he was too far away from any form of Internet service, he couldn't do as much as he wished. Half the use of his computer at home was Internet based and he wasn't able to use that here. Still, he was looking at ideas.

His first idea was to eliminate the keyboard. With his auto-dictation quill next to him, he figured a similar idea could be used for the laptops, eliminating the need to type. For those times when a keyboard was absolutely essential, a shrunken, fold-away version could be kept tucked into a slide out.

Using magic, he started seeing ideas for various attachments like the printer, scanners, and such, all using magical instruments that simulated functions or magically enhanced versions of 'normal' items. Note after note on what he thought would be useful started to fill in as his ideas started with simple and rapidly moved into the complicated or downright bizarre. Before he got too engrossed and spent all night on it, Carcerous reminded him that he needed to get some sleep and the computer could wait. Reluctantly agreeing, Staros went to bed, still thinking of ways to improve the computer magically.


	25. Humorous Chances

Christmas Day rolled around and Staros was awakened by Carcerous. Seeing Blaise still asleep, Staros took care of his morning rituals and then sat looking at his friend, still asleep. A sinister smile worked its way onto his face as an idea percolated in his brain. Calling on Carcerous for help, he had the elf get him a large pile of snow. While that was happening, with great care, he levitated Draco's sheet over Blaise and knotted the corners slightly to the bedposts. Tying some string to the knots, he had Carcerous put the snow in the sheet and spell it to remain weightless until the sheet fell. The other ends of the string he tied to Blaise's nightshirt. The whole thing took mere minutes. He then left for breakfast, leaving the room door open to the drafty halls.

Staros almost made it to the common room exit when a loud scream of horror and dismay resounded through the dorms. Stifling a laugh, he quickly darted out the exit and almost ran to the Great Hall while other students that were up looked around in confusion.

Staros sat eating breakfast and occasionally chuckling to himself, making a few nearby students who heard him worry a little bit, when after about twenty minutes or so, Blaise walked in and sat down, far away from Staros. He never even looked over. Staros chuckled again before getting up and moving towards Blaise. Blaise waited until Staros sat back down near him and then got up himself and moved as far as the table allowed. Staros followed. If his chuckling didn't make people wonder, this weird game of follow the leader that ensued sure did as students from every house watched in curiosity as Staros seemed to chase Blaise around the table.

About ten minutes of this and Blaise seemed to give up on moving, probably just so he could actually eat. Staros sat next to him and with a weird smile reached over and patted Blaise on the head like a dog. Blaise stared daggers at him in return.

"Sorry, man, just couldn't help it," said Staros apologetically.

"I hate you," replied Blaise.

"Ah, where's your Christmas spirit? Good will towards men and forgiveness and whatnot?"

"My spirit is as frozen as the snow that woke me this morning."

Staros chuckled a bit at that.

"Yeah, well, I know I'll get paid back at some point so eat up, then we'll disturb the Gryffs by showing up to open presents with them."

A flat stare was his answer, but Blaise did hurry through his breakfast with occasional sly looks towards Staros who pretended not to notice the wheels turning in the other boy's head.

A little while later, the two stood before the Gryffindor entry way wondering exactly how they would go about asking for permission to enter.

"It's not polite to stare, young sirs," said the portrait of a very large lady which caused the two to jump in surprise then look rather embarrassed since this was after all, the magical school with hundreds of talking portraits.

"We're sorry, ma'am," said Staros.

"Yes, please forgive us," Blaise said quite a bit more politely. "We were wondering how we could get a message to our acquaintances inside so that they could allow us entry."

"You are Slytherins are you not?"

"Yes, ma'am," Staros replied.

"And why should I let you into the Gryffindor common room? The houses have never gotten on very well so I can't see you having friends inside."

Blaise bowed to her slightly before saying, "In truth Madame, my associate here does indeed have a person who could be considered a friend in the House of the Brave. As loathe as I am to admit it, I too find the individual's company to be more relaxing than some of my fellow Slytherins."

"So formal for one so young," the lady said quietly. "Very well, remain here and I shall pass along your request."

The lady walked out of her frame and was gone for several minutes.

Inside the Gryffindor common room, Harry, Ron, and the twins were finishing opening their presents when Percy walked in.

"What's…" he began only to be interrupted by the Fat Lady walking into one of the portraits.

"Ah, a prefect, excellent. There are two young Slytherins just outside who wish to speak with one of your fellow Gryffindors. Shall I let them in?"

"Whowhat?" Percy said ever so eloquently.

With a sigh, the Fat Lady turned to the twins and asked them the same question. Ron heard and freaked out of course.

"We can't let Slytherins in here! Those slimy snakes are just trying to ruin our Christmas! Tell them to bugger off!"

Fred and George shared a look. In a manner and means known only to twins worldwide, that look asked questions, received answers, made plans, and agreed on a course of action in a split second.

"Never mind…"

"…we'll handle it…."

"…never you fear…"

"…the Weasley Twins…"

"…are here!" the last statement was said simultaneously by them both as they strode towards the entryway.

A few moments later, one of the twins poked his head out the doorway to see Staros and Blaise inspecting the scrollwork around the walls.

"Well, my dear brother mine, it seems we have guests…"

"Ah, yes, guests of a vile and villainous nature I am told…"

"Is anyone more villainous than us?"

"I should hope not, my dear fellow, else we would be out of a job…"

"Right-o. So what brings two snakes…"

"…to the lion's den?"

Blaise looked like he was about to have a seizure from the twins' method of speech when Staros suddenly laughed.

"It's part of our twisted plot to take over the world, one Christmas at a time! If you help, we shall name you Grand Jesters of Our Imperial Order."

Whichever twin it was, Staros suspected Fred, blinked and stared for a moment. Then an equally evil smirle slowly appeared before the door was fully opened and the two Slytherins were bowed in.

"Please, oh Great and Mighty One…"

"…name it, and we shall make it so!"

"Especially if it involves pranks!"

"Quite so, dear brother!"

"Thanks, guys. We came to see Harry, but we did bring presents for all!" Staros said as he stepped into the common room.

Staros and Blaise took a moment at the entrance to look around. The Gryffindor common room was absolutely horrid. Red and gold in garish, clashing patterns adorned virtually every surface. Even the desks were done over in red and gold tones. The lighting was much brighter than the Slytherin common room, almost harsh by comparison. Shaking their heads at the décor, the two marshaled their strength and waltzed in as only Slytherins could.

Seeing the Fat Lady, Staros stopped at the portrait she was currently in and spoke to her before she could depart.

"Thank you for your assistance, madam… I'm sorry, we don't know your name."

"She's the Fat Lady! How could you not know that?" exclaimed Ron. Staros frowned slightly.

"While that might be her moniker amongst Gryffindors, I am sure she has a far more flattering name than that."

"In truth, it has been a while since anyone asked," said the Fat Lady. "My name is Winifred. Thank you for asking." She then walked out of the portrait, most likely back to her own.

Ron at least had the decency to look a little ashamed to have been calling Winifred the 'fat lady' all this time and never thinking to ask if she had a real name. Harry looked a bit upset about the whole thing.

"I wouldn't worry much about it, Harry," said Staros. "Most of the portraits have been called by something other than their original names for so long, some have forgotten. I doubt anyone could recall the Bloody Baron's actual name without doing some serious research… well, maybe Hermione."

Harry, and even Ron, though looking almost offended, had a chuckle at that.

"So what are you snakes doing here anyway?" Ron asked, reverting back to his onerous self. "Can't we have a quiet Christmas without you lot spoiling it?"

"Blaise, it seems we're unwelcome. Shall we go?" Staros said, a slight twitchy smile trying to form while he fought it down.

Blaise nodded and turned while saying, "Too bad, and we had those presents too…"

Harry had been ready to make Ron settle down when he saw what the two were doing. He bit back his own laugh and hid his smile while Ron's face switched between glaring hatred of the Slytherins and the obvious greed of all children on Christmas morning. Greed won out.

"W..wa…wait…since it's Christmas and all…" Ron stammered.

Staros was turned away from Ron, but Harry could see his smirk when Ron's greed beat out his hate. Harry had a hard time holding back from laughing at his friends and was trying very hard to keep a serious look on his face. The twins had no such reason and were looking positively evil while Percy was still in a mild state of shock.

The two Slytherins sat in chairs opposite Harry while Ron retook his own seat. The twins had grabbed their prefect brother and hauled him away chanting about putting on his sweater to show his Weasley family devotion, which earned confused looks and a quirk of the eyebrow to the remaining Gryffindors. Harry and Ron gestured to their own sweaters and explained how Ron's mum made them every year, though Harry's was a first outside the family. Staros nodded, having similar things in his own family, while Blaise shrugged it off as a Weasley thing.

"So, presents then?" Staros asked to which Ron tried desperately to look uninterested and Harry only smiled.

"Carcerous!" Staros called, the elf appearing instantly next to him. "The gifts, if you would."

"Aye, young master," the elf said, popping away only to return a few moments later with Harry and Ron's gifts as well as both Blaise and Staros' piles from their rooms. The two Slytherins set to opening their gifts making the other two wait, not that Ron really minded as he was seeing that Slytherins got similar gifts and that Staros had already shown a dislike for many of wizarding Britain's various kinds of candy. Chocolate frogs creeped him out, but Ron loved them so Staros gave any he found to him.

After ripping through the vast majority of their presents, saving a couple from certain people to be opened privately, Staros picked up Ron, Harry and Blaise's gifts and passed them around, receiving one from Blaise in turn.

"Sorry I didn't get anyone anything," Harry began before Staros waved it off.

"Not to worry, Harry," Staros interrupted, "We're all aware of your situation, not knowing what to get, having no clue how to get it. We'll let it pass this year, you can make it up to us next year."

"W…wh…what?" Harry said.

"Gotcha! But, no seriously, don't worry about it, Harry."

Harry relaxed after he realized Staros was kidding him and Ron assured him that it was all ok.

Ron and Harry stared at the packages in front of them, not really sure how to proceed. Blaise helped them out by just slowly ripping a long piece of wrapping from his gift and giving them a smile. After that, the other two simply tore into their presents like any other kid. Blaise finished opening his present and was rather pleased with the clasp he had been given. It was all in silver with green painted highlights done over in the Slytherin house crest. Harry's was similar except it was Gryffindor done in red and gold. Ron seemed slightly disappointed in his own gift as it was a certificate and catalogue for Zonkos, the local joke shop.

"Wasn't sure what to get ya, Ron," said Staros, noticing the boy's odd look. "Figured with the twins as your brothers though, you might need some… ah, self-defense items as it were."

Ron perked up noticeably at that thought, then grinned as he realized he had a LOT of ideas running around in his head and the means to make some of them happen. Everyone else laughed when they saw the change in attitude.

Harry got Ron to show off their other presents. Ron tried to stop Harry from showing off the invisibility cloak, but after Staros swore on his magic never to tell anyone and got Blaise to so the same, he didn't have much reason to stop it. Staros looked over the cloak and commented on how very rare they were, even in America. It was put away just as Percy was stomping back down the stairs wearing, and looking none too happy about it, his Weasley jumper with a large letter 'P' on it. The twins followed him and when he tried to make the two Slytherins leave, they grabbed him and marched him out the common room door 'to breakfast' they said.

After they left, Ron hurried to put his gifts away and Harry went to stand by the window, looking pensive. Blaise decided he'd had enough of the glaring Gryffindor colors and excused himself, saying he would see everyone at dinner.

"Thinking about your parents, Harry?" asked Staros.

Harry jumped and looked at the Slytherin boy, "How?"

Staros quirked a half-smile at him.

"Really? From the little you've said, your aunt and uncle don't exactly shower you with graces, you're an orphan, and it's Christmas. Most of my siblings are much older than me and live in different parts of the world. I've spent more time with my tutors than much of my family. It's not hard to guess."

Harry smiled a bit at that realizing it was pretty obvious. Before he could say anything else, Ron had come back down and pulled Harry over to a game of chess. Staros watched them play for a while, occasionally giving Harry pointers but never enough to beat Ron. Harry switched out a couple times with Staros and Ron trounced him too. Staros shook his head at the last game, beaten in only eleven moves.

"OK, Ron's a chess-master. I'm barely considered average. Harry, you're just pathetic."

"Hey!"

"No denying the truth, Harry. Give Ron here a few more years playing against tougher opponents and he could have a real talent. I'll have to set up my laptop some time and put our moves into the computer to see if Ron can beat the best levels it has."

Ron was all for that, but for now, it was getting late and they all had to get ready for the Christmas dinner. Staros left and Harry was needling Ron about playing chess with a Slytherin, and winning. Ron looked horrified for a few moments before he remembered that no one else was here, no one saw, and yes, he did win. Grinning like an idiot, he ran to get ready for dinner.

The Great Hall was done up a little differently for Christmas. Gone were the house and teacher's tables. Instead, there was one large, narrow U-shaped table in the middle of the room. Dumbledore and the teachers were already seated at the top of the U, with enough of a gap between them and the students to prevent anyone from feeling nervous. The students all gathered and sat down, the older ones not even pausing in their quiet conversations since they had seen this before. The houses still tended to sit together, but with only about eighty-ish students in the castle, people were still mingling with different years and houses, regardless.


	26. Emotional Chances

The first years who stayed were amazed at the amount of food laid out for dinner. Turkey and roasts, potatoes boiled, fried, or mashed, vegetables of every kind prepared every way, cranberry sauce and gravies, and breads to fill a bakery. Scattered through the platters of food were dishes containing crackers and other party favors. Unlike the mundane copies, these crackers contained fantastic, sturdy toys, firecracker illusions, and numerous odd surprises. Harry popped one only to have it explode with a loud BANG! rather than the pop he expected. Out of it came an admiral's tricorn and three live white mice who did the 'Three Blind Mice' routine before scurrying off. Dumbledore traded his wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet as he laughed at a joke told by Flitwick. Staros got a pirate's cap and eye patch that he put on, spearing his food with a knife and saying "Arrrgh!" a lot. Blaise received a monk's habit and he was goaded into wearing it by the others even as Ron ended up with a nun's habit instead, to which his brothers tried very hard to get him to put it on saying they would make a lovely couple and earning the twins a death glare from Brother Sullen as Blaise was dubbed.

Flaming puddings followed the feast. As everyone tried the different puddings, some only a few bites as they had already stuffed themselves silly, Percy nearly lost a tooth to a silver sickle in his bowl. Hagrid was downing Christmas mead in large flagons, getting redder in the face with every cup. At one point he leaned over and kissed Professor McGonagall on the cheek. The normally stern professor only giggled and blushed, much to the students' shock. Of course, they also soon realized she'd had a few glasses of wine herself. Even dour old Professor Snape seemed to relax a bit, not making snide comments as usual or glaring at anyone, but he still let his dry wit free with the occasional joke or sarcastic riddle.

After the marvelous meal, everyone headed back to their dorms to relax. Some, like Ron, were barely able to move after eating so much. Many of the younger students had gotten very sleepy with stuffing themselves like the turkeys they had devoured. Sleep soon followed as people went to bed at different times. All save Harry.

Harry too had stuffed himself on foods he had only dreamed about, but a nagging feeling wouldn't let him sleep. It wasn't until he climbed into bed that he realized what it was that had been bothering him. His father's invisibility cloak.

Harry pulled the cloak out from the hiding place in his bed he had found for it. He let his fingers trail over the material as he wondered, 'This was my father's… MY father…'

Emotions he couldn't identify welled up in his chest and a tear fell down his cheek. He caught the errant bit of water as it fell from his face and stared at it in his hand. He hadn't cried in ages. Not since Vernon had beat him for 'the insufferable blubbering and snuffling' that kept him awake one night. It had been years since he'd let a tear fall.

Shaking himself from his musings, he remembered the note. He pulled it out of his shirt pocket where he'd stashed it earlier.

'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it returned to you. Use it well.'

…Use it well…

Harry was suddenly very wide awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him. With this cloak, he could go anywhere, well, maybe not the girls' dorms as he was pretty sure there might be charms that could even find him under his cloak. There might be a few other places with special locks or whatever, but pretty much everything else was now his playground!

Ron grunted and rolled over. Harry wondered if he should wake Ron and share the adventure this was sure to be. He was just about to go and nudge the other boy when he looked down at the cloak again. His father's cloak. His cloak. Long suppressed feelings pushed ever so slightly forward. Feelings of want and desire mixed with the longing for his family that he'd managed to keep buried for so long he wasn't sure what he was remembering. No, this one time, he would not involve anyone else. It was _his_ cloak and he wanted, just for a while, to feel like he was following what his father would do.

Creeping out of the room, down the stairs and into the common area, he looked around to see if anyone else was up. The coast clear, he quickly donned his cloak and made his way out the common room door.

"What? Who's there?" demanded the Fat Lady… 'Winifred, must remember, her name is Winifred'. Harry said nothing and just quietly closed the portrait door and walked down the corridor. Winifred glanced groggily around and, seeing no one, went back to sleep.

Where should he go? Harry suddenly stopped. For the first time in many, many years, he was doing something because HE wanted to and he just realized, he had no idea WHAT to do. Thinking over the areas that he knew about in Hogwarts, he grinned as he thought of one place he could check out that he wouldn't be able to enter otherwise. The Restricted Section. After all, it was all for a good cause, they still needed to know who Flammel was.

Harry quickly hurried down the corridors, carefully keeping the cloak wrapped tightly around him. Before long, he had entered the library which was pitch black and not a little scary. Picking up one of the lamps, he turned the runed knob that lit it and started looking down the rows of books. The lamp, casting light, looked like it was floating in mid-air with only the smallest part of his hand showing. Even though he could feel his arm holding the lamp up, the fact that the cloak hid it completely made it a little creepy.

Making his way towards the back section, Harry was soon greeted by the sight of the enclosed area known as the Restricted Section. The bookshelves were all turned in such a way as to present a wall towards the outside with a short gate and a sign being all that actually prevented entry. Lifting the latch, Harry walked into the eerie, forbidden area.

At first glance, Harry didn't know what the big deal was. The books in here pretty much resembled the books out there. Then he got closer to the shelves and started seeing the details of the books. Most had strange lettering along their spines, those that had titles anyway, and seemed to be written in foreign languages. Many of the books had only a single copy, that single copy invariably being dark bound, sometimes lined with runes, other times covered in iron clasps. Some of the books were bound in a smooth leather that gave Harry shivers to look at. One book was covered in blotches that he swore was blood. He quickly looked somewhere else for his information.

There were also many scrolls and what looked like boxes labeled as books or scroll collections. Knowing that scrolls would be harder to keep in order and prevent anyone from knowing he was here, he stayed away from those for now.

Having stood for a while examining the books, Harry noticed that in some places, he swore he could hear whispers, probably coming from the books themselves! Starting to worry about what he may be getting into, Harry decided to flip through a couple books and see if there was anything on Flammel and then get the heck out. A black bound volume with silver clasps drew his attention. It had no title and Harry struggled to get it off the shelf. Putting the lamp on a nearby table, he grabbed the book with both hands and pulled it down.

Harry propped the book against the shelf he had removed it from and undid the clasps. The book suddenly flew open and a bloodcurdling scream nearly made Harry wet himself. The BOOK was screaming! The sound near driving him to his wits' end, Harry snapped the book shut which managed to muffle, but not stop, the horrid screams. Stumbling to hold the book, he backed against the table and the lamp fell, breaking and snuffing it at once.

In a panic, Harry stuffed the screaming book back onto the shelf and dashed out of the section. He had just made it passed the gate when Filch came around the nearest row. Ducking under Filch's outstretched arm holding another lamp, Harry only barely escaped running into the man as he ran from the stacks and out of the library.

Not paying attention to where he ran, Harry started to get a little worried for a different reason. Now that the book was far behind him, he was calming down enough from that to notice he had no idea where he was exactly. He stopped next to a suit of armor, one of dozens of suits of armor in the castle, and tried to figure out which way to go. Footsteps and vague voices made him pause.

"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night. Someone's been up in the library, restricted section."

Harry pulled his cloak closer to him as he recognized Filch's voice. The old caretaker must know some shortcuts as Harry had been running near full tilt to get here, and the man was only walking along, getting closer. Who he was talking to was answered shortly as Snape's soft voice replied, "The restricted section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."

Harry looked around for a place to hide as the two men came around the corner just ahead. While they couldn't see him, he was still solid and this was a rather narrow corridor. They'd for sure find him if they kept coming like they were. Harry began to back away slowly, looking for any means of escape. To his left was a door standing slightly ajar. Hope!

Harry darted over to the door and as carefully as he could, tried to squeeze through the opening without moving the door itself. He just barely made it right before Snape and Filch walked by. Harry leaned against the wall next to the door and tried to control his breathing so he wouldn't make any noise while listening to the two men's footsteps fade away into the darkness.

After he was sure they couldn't hear him, Harry let out a loud sigh of relief. Taking a few moments to catch his breath, he looked around the room to see if he could figure out where in the castle he was. It looked to be an unused classroom, one of many scattered all over the various wings. Briefly wondering why there were so many unused classrooms, Harry wandered around. Against one wall were stacks of desks and chairs. Along another was a dusty series of chalkboards and an overturned waste basket, quite empty. A shift in the clouds brought light through the large windows, letting Harry know he was along the outer wall at least. Then he saw it.

Off to one side, like someone had just shoved it there to get it out of the way, was a large, ornate mirror. Easily seven foot tall, with a gold colored frame, the mirror stood on a stand with large, clawed feet. An inscription curved around the top over the glass. _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._

Harry walked towards the mirror, trying to figure out if the words were magic, another language or something else. As he drew closer, he looked at the mirror's silvery glass. He stopped moving, his breath caught in his throat. At first glance, he thought he saw people. Quickly looking behind him, he saw he was still alone. Wondering what was happening, he moved closer to get a better look.

He saw himself standing in the middle of the mirror. To his left was a tall, red headed woman whom he felt an odd connection to. To his right was a man who looked like an older version of himself. He waved his hands behind him but felt nothing. If this mirror showed invisible people, he would have felt them, the reflection showed him they were that close. Stepping closer, he looked at the two more carefully.

The woman was beautiful. She was smiling at him with a look of tired patience. Her hair was a dark red, long, past her shoulders. He features were soft, angelic. Her eyes... they were HIS eyes! Quickly looking at the man, Harry saw the same sharp chin, the same wild, untamable hair, and glasses! The man seemed to smile as if knowing Harry had figured something out.

"Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?" The woman smiled, nodding and the man waved.

Harry was practically nose to the glass by now, his fingers trailing along to smooth surface as if trying to find a way to the other side. He looked past the two figures before him. Behind his father, another man and woman stood. She had a proud, aristocratic bearing he had seen of the Royals when he caught them on the telly. The man stood just as proud, but had a more relaxed feel. Behind his mother were another pair, this time wearing obviously muggle clothing, the woman with a long neck like his Aunt Petunia, but a nicer face, like his mother. The man wore a suit of older style, but other than being slightly overweight, looked like many of the kindhearted businessmen that ran newspaper stands and outdoor groceries everywhere. Other figures less distinct stood behind those four.

Harry was seeing his whole family, for the first time. Tears fell freely as he stood before the mirror, memorizing the faces of his parents and grandparents. Feelings he couldn't identify clashed in his chest. Something like fear, another thing like joy, another like sadness, all warred within his heart.

A distant noise brought his attention away from the glass long enough to realize it was near dawn. Shaking himself, he looked one last time at the figures in the mirror before whispering, "I'll come back," and tearing himself away, hurriedly left and made his way back to the dorms.


	27. Mirrors and Chance

The next morning found the tables back to their usual positions in the Great Hall. Staros walked in and saw Harry and Ron already seated. He smiled as he walked over, then frowned as he noticed that Harry looked really tired.

"Hey guys, rough night?" Staros asked, seating himself next to Ron who, of course, looked like he was about to start screaming any minute. "Stay up all night or something, Harry? Not healthy you know."

Staros started to pile up a plate of breakfast when Ron started in.

"You snakes have your own table you know. You could try eating over there and let us alone. We were talking about something important and don't need your kind butting in!"

With a sigh, Staros said, "Backsliding already, Ron? And here I was going to let you beat me at chess again today. 'Sides, I think you guys get better food over here, what with how you stuff your face, Ron. Quite a feat, I assure you."

"What? Why I…"

"Ron! Enough!" shouted Harry. "Just leave it will you. I swear, you two should get married or something."

Ron started to splutter as Staros chuckled and looked over at Ron.

"It'd have to be a gold and silver wedding. The reds and greens would clash horribly."

Ron went completely quiet as he stared at Staros open mouthed. His eyes had a look of horror while a twitch started to make its way across the left side of his face. Harry and Staros watched for a moment but then couldn't hold it in any longer and started laughing hard. It took what seemed like forever for Ron to come back to Earth and realize he was well and truly had with that one. He got up and moved around to the other side of Harry to be sure, but even he had to chuckle a bit at the joke. Still, he kept looking over at Staros like he was afraid the boy might try to get a little closer.

True to his word, Staros played Ron in several rounds of chess later that day, but he took notice of Harry's brooding. He never got either boy to tell him what was up that day, and they made no headway on the Flammel issue when they took some time to look through the library. A brief laugh was had when Harry related his oh so short visit to the Restricted Section the night before, which Staros took as being why Harry looked so tired.

Staros did finally receive a letter back from the Flammel Brothers in New York though. It politely said that they had no such person in their family that they were aware of, and not so politely said to quit sticking their noses into their family's personal business. Staros quickly wrote back a note of apology as well as mentioning the prospects of a good business deal here in Britain, explaining the lack of higher quality alchemical equipment.

The next morning was similar except that both Harry and Ron looked tired, Harry the worse of the two. While playing a game of chess, Staros made Ron tell him what was going on.

"Seriously, Ron, look at him! I've never seen him like that!"

Ron sighed, and looked over at Harry who was sitting, staring into the fire in the common room. He looked positively half-dead and hadn't eaten much the day before or today. With worried look, Ron looked back at Staros and gave in.

"It's the mirror. He won't stay away. He spent all Christmas night staring at it, and would have spent all last night too if we hadn't almost got caught."

"Mirror? What mirror?" Staros asked, bewildered.

Ron launched into the story Harry had told him the day before and went over the events of last night.

"So, you're saying he sees his parents and grandparents in it and you saw yourself as Quidditch captain, Head Boy, and holding the House Cup? Doesn't sound all to menacing, but I think you're right. Harry should probably stay away from it until he gets some perspective on his family. Sounds like he's having trouble dealing with seeing them. I bet it's the first time…"

"What? How could it be the first time he's seen them?"

"Well, they DID die when he was a baby. He might not remember them at all. And he did grow up with mundanes. Can't see them having too many photos with wizards in them."

Ron sat back thinking about that. His family was always there. They had pictures of parts of his family he'd never met, cousins, aunts, uncles, greats, etc. He couldn't imagine having never seen them at all before. Try as he did, his head just couldn't wrap around the idea of having never seen his parents, or anyone else in his family. Sighing, he realized it was something he'd never know, and a deep part of him, a part that was suddenly very sorry for his friend, was ever so silently, but very much thankful he never would.

"Look, don't hurt yourself thinking about it. But, what will we do if he tries to go again tonight?"

Ron frowned. He really didn't want Harry to waste his nights in front of that mirror and his days staring off until he thought he could get away to go back.

"I don't know. I could try and stop him maybe," Ron said.

Staros shook his head.

"No, by yourself, he'd just get mad again, like last night. Let me show you a messenger spell like what they use in the Ministry. If he takes off tonight, you shoot me a message and we'll both go sit on him until he listens. Maybe with both of us, we can get the point to sink in."

Ron looked doubtful, but looking at Harry again, it was an indication of how worried he was that things would get worse that he would trust a Slytherin to help him.

"Ok. Show me."

After getting the spell down and making sure that Staros knew exactly how to get to the room, Ron went to try and get Harry interested in something while Staros went back to the Slytherin dorms.

Staros met Blaise in the common room, reading a book. Sitting down, he waited until his friend had finished whatever chapter or paragraph he was on and put the book down before speaking.

"Sorry about the snow."

Blaise looked at Staros in a way that said, 'Forgiven for now, but never forgotten' like any true Slytherin.

"Whatever, so how are your pet Gryffs doing?"

Quirking a half-smile, Staros knew that Blaise would get him back at some point and promised himself to try to not be too pissed about it.

"Eh, Ron's the same. Still the fascinating to you eating machine that is the bane of house elves and chefs worldwide. Harry's been spending the last couple nights staring at some enchanted mirror though. It's got him all in a twist."

Staros related a brief summary of what Ron had told him. Blaise sat back and frowned.

"Something about that sounds vaguely familiar, like a story I once heard. I dunno, but enchanted things shoved into abandoned classrooms are probably not good things to mess with. Let me know what you find out if you have to take off tonight. But don't wake me. If you get in trouble, I don't want anything to do with it or any giant, man-eating animals that might be hiding in corridors."

Staros chuckled but agreed knowing that Blaise still had a few nightmares about Fluffy.

That night, a note whizzed into the common room where Staros was doing some essays while waiting to see if the note showed. Sighing since this meant that Harry had indeed gone back to the mirror, he quickly put his stuff away and made his way out into the corridors. He had already overheard Snape's plans for his patrols that night, so he wasn't too worried about being caught. Even still, he was dressed in all black robes, with a cloak thrown in to help disguise his shape. He quickly followed the directions Ron had given him to the point they agreed to meet at. Seeing no Ron, Staros wondered if he had been caught. Waiting a few minutes, he decided that he should get to Harry before he spent too much time staring into the mirror and Ron could catch up later.

Several minutes later, he was outside the door Ron had described. He heard voices inside. Creeping up, he listened in.

"… the Mirror of Erised," said a voice very much like Dumbledore.

"I didn't know it was called that, sir," said a voice like Harry.

"But, I expect you've realized… It seems one of your other friends has decided to join us. Come in, Mr. Marcus, come in."

Seeing as he had been noticed, Staros shrugged and walked boldly into the room.

"Sorry, Headmaster, I'd been told Harry here might be wasting his time with a possibly dangerous enchanted object and just wanted to see what the fuss was about. Oh, and knock him over the head if need be." Staros said the last with a large grin. Dumbledore seemed to understand as he too smiled.

"Have you heard then, about the mirror and what it shows, Mr. Marcus?"

"Sure, Harry's parents, Ron's, I dunno, hero inferiority complex or something."

"Indeed, Ron as Head Boy and Harry's family."

"How did you?" said Harry.

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"

Harry looked at Staros, who shook his head slightly, then back at Dumbledore before shaking his own head.

"Let me explain then. Ah, I do so miss being the teacher. The happiest man on Earth would use the Mirror of Erised like any normal mirror, that is, he would look into and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"

Harry and Staros thought for a moment before Harry spoke up.

"It shows us what we want. Whatever we want."

"Yes and no," Dumbledore said softly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. Young Staros here would see something entirely different. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."

"Sir, might I have a look then? Just to satisfy my curiosity?" asked Staros.

Dumbledore looked over the rim of his glasses at Staros for a few moments before nodding.

"Remember, my boy, what you see could be past, present, or future, but not necessarily real in any way."

Nodding, Staros stepped in front of the mirror. At first, he saw nothing more than his own reflection with Dumbledore standing behind him. Then Dumbledore stepped away and Staros saw something else entirely.

Harry and Dumbledore watched as Staros stared into the glass, first with mild curiosity, then with mounting worry as Staros' face showed surprise and then despair. Staros finally seemed to explode in anger as he slammed his fist into the mirror's surface, shocking the other two. Either because the glass was so very thick for a mere eleven year old to damage or the mirror had additional enchantments to prevent such possibility, but Staros' blow did nothing even as the boy hung his head down while shaking, either in anger or some other emotion, Harry and Dumbledore couldn't tell.

Standing back straight without looking at the mirror again, Staros glanced at Dumbledore with a look of pure hatred and anger.

"That thing should be destroyed," Staros hissed as he stalked away from the mirror. "What it shows… no, that will never come to pass, no matter how much I might wish otherwise. Get rid of it, Headmaster, before someone else gets trapped by its evil."

Dumbledore was a bit shocked at such a violent reaction to the sights the mirror showed and with some concern, he tried to gently probe the boy's mind to catch the memory before it was buried too deeply. Staros felt the brush on his occlumency shields and quickly shut his eyes. Taking a few breaths, he re-opened them to look the headmaster straight in the eye, secure that his mind was safe from passive probes.

"Please don't, sir. I do not wish to discuss what I saw, nor get into it right now. Maybe another time."

Dumbledore nodded once before turning back to Harry, who looked slightly confused.

"The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you do happen to run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, you two should be off, back to bed."

"Sir. Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?" said Harry.

"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled at his little joke. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks," said Dumbledore, a sad note to his voice. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People insist on getting me books. Save for your own, Mr. Marcus. Thank you for that lovely nameplate. It will be handy should anyone forget to whom they are speaking."

Realizing that it was a rather lame gift, but that Dumbledore seemed pleased to have received anything from a student, he mumbled a Your Welcome before he and Harry took off to their respective dorms.


	28. Short Chances

Hermione had returned the day before the holidays were over, along with most of the other students living in the mundane world. It seemed Harry was indeed convinced to not look for the mirror again as he stayed in his bed the remaining nights. He had started having nightmares, however. Horrible dreams of his parents disappearing in a flash of sickly green light while someone cackled madly in the background. Ron was convinced that the mirror HAD driven Harry a little mad, just a little, but Hermione had a different take on the whole scenario.

Hermione was thinking that he might be having a residual flashback to the night that Harry's parents had died. After all, the Killing Curse was known to be green and a baby would see very little definition, but sounds would be remembered. She figured that the only reason he was having the dreams now was that he finally had faces to put to the vague memories of that night. It was a frighteningly Freudian analysis of poor Harry.

Otherwise, Hermione was torn between the horrors of them sneaking around at night, wonder at what might be in the forbidden Restricted Section, and disappointment that no one had found anything on Nicholas Flammel, other than the Flammel Brothers denying any relation.

Over the next several days and weeks, the small group spent what time they could trying to find more information about Flammel. Harry and Staros both had less time than the other two, Harry because of Quidditch practice, Staros because of his 'personal project' that he refused to tell anyone about. While Staros was making decent headway into the _History_, he realized that the book was enormous and that with the changes in language, it would take a while. Already he was laughing about some of the exploits of the Founders he had discovered.

One passage he had found described Salazar's wooing of Rowenna. All four had written some of their personal accounts of the epic battle for Rowenna's heart. Years of Sal asking to court her, years of being denied, but never in such a way that said 'No' outright. More years of him asking to marry her with similar replies. Years of Godric standing to the sidelines laughing about the whole thing, often until he was on the ground in tears. Helga's husband seemed to make appearances once in a while in her accounts, but she never put his name down in the _History_. Godric had a string of women thrown at him by the various courts they attended, but he never seemed to settle on a wife.

One particularly long passage was written by Godric and was an accounting of his two friends' wedding. Finally, they had given up the deft dance they had played out for so long. His recounting was a beautiful narrative of the union, with the entire school in attendance, plus numerous royals and dignitaries from all over the magical world. You could even make out a few marks that looked to be tearstains amidst the words, perhaps Godric crying in joy for his friends?

Interspersed throughout the earlier accounts were long narratives of meetings and views about the rising 'commoners' issue. None of the Founders wanted to outright block the first generation magicals, but there was a major issue regarding their educational level, the rising powers of the Church across Europe, and the clashes between magical children whose houses were in feuds or were of higher station than others. It was not pretty.

Staros had to shake his head at one particular recounting that was written many weeks after the previous entry. Apparently, the reason for the large gap was a blood feud. One scion of a house tried to kill another of a house his parents were at war with. The ensuing chaos nearly caused a civil war in the magical world with over a hundred students dead and at least two prominent lines ended, neither of which had been involved before that. The only good to come from it was that Godric had finally found a wife. At the age of sixty-three.

To a girl of fifteen. Staros was momentarily shocked before he remembered that back in those days, such things were common enough. The age difference between husband and wife was often a decade or more, especially with titles involved. The girl was from a small village that boasted a large number of magical families. Her name was Alanna Peverell of the Ancient House of Peverell. Staros was sure he'd heard that name in History of Magic at some point, but couldn't quite recall why. Ah, well, he'd look it up later.

Several days later, right before the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch match, Hermione was the one to tell Staros about the Flammels. He had run into her on his way out of the library while she was coming in. Always enjoying her viewpoint on many of the magical subjects, he stayed to help her with researching some of her often very long essays. Amidst the joking about her 'slightly' exceeding the requirements of the essays, she mentioned the _History_. Almost fearing he'd been caught with his project, Staros buried his first reaction, to scream and beg for mercy, remember, brilliant but scary, and asked what she meant about it having the answer.

Instead of just telling, she went over to the stacks and brought back one of the abridged copies and plopped it on the table, flipped to the relevant section, and went back to her work, knowing that Staros would read through it. He did.

Nicholas Flammel. Six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday. And, the Sorcerers' Stone. Great, a magic rock that could transmute base metal to gold and provided the Elixir of Life. And it was probably hidden in this very school. Staros glanced around briefly for the hidden cameras, stunt guys, or bad movie props that would tell him he was back in Cali trespassing in a B-rated film studio. Not finding any, he sighed realizing that, yes, life was now horribly complicated.

On the other hand, he looked down at the picture of Nicholas and Perenelle and almost laughed out loud. Later that night Staros wrote the Flammel 'Brothers' another letter that simply said "Devon? Really?" and included a signature that incorporated his magical oath to say nothing.

From the tension about the match, Staros couldn't help but be drawn to see it, even if his house wasn't playing. Blaise came with him to the stands, but Daphne and Tracey were much more interested in finishing their transfiguration homework. Since Professor Snape, who seemed to dislike Gryffindor and Harry in particular, was refereeing; it promised to be somewhat interesting.

It was also the first match that Staros could remember seeing Dumbledore in the stands. Thinking over the number of times there had been 'issues' between the two houses, it probably made sense.

Staros made his way into the stands, actually following Draco who had gotten there a bit earlier. As they were all sitting down, Draco leaned back in his seat and stuck his foot forward far enough to hit Ron in the back of the head. Shaking his head at the inevitable fight, Staros moved a little closer in case he was needed.

"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you Weasley?" said Draco with his usual sneer.

Ron didn't answer him, instead turning back to the match where Snape had just awarded a penalty to Hufflepuff because one of the Twins had snapped a bludger in his direction.

Staros spoke up.

"Sure, Draco. What odds you giving?"

"Um, what?"

"Odds. Fine, even bet then. I say twenty that Harry is off his broom in the next fifteen minutes. Deal?"

"Deal. Wait… what?"

"Don't worry, Draco. I lose if he's off in ten or less, or takes longer than sixteen. Sound good?"

"Better, done."

Hermione was looking cross at Staros, but was trying to keep her attention on Harry flying high overhead in a crisscross pattern. Just in case. Ron ignored the bet, but did look a bit more upset.

And then Draco started again.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" Draco asked as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for apparently no reason. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money. You should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville turned and stammered out, "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy!"

Draco and goons laughed at this while Ron, still facing away, said, "You tell him, Neville!"

"Now, now, Drakey. Remember, House of the Brave and all that. Brains are hardly noticed and a lack isn't something they can feel sorry for," said Staros, earning him a glare of death from Hermione, but another laugh from Draco.

Still laughing, Draco said, "Oh, gods, that was a good one. Anyway, Longbottom, seriously, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Staros shook his head at the over the top insult, guessing that 'How to Insult People and NOT Get Hit' was not a book that the purebloods of Britain ever read.

"Malfoy," Ron growled, "I'm warning you! One more word!"

"Ron!" Hermione yelled. "Harry!"

Everyone turned to watch, Staros holding up his pocket watch while doing so, as Harry suddenly dived in a sharp spiral, almost straight down.

"You're in luck, Weasley! Potter's obviously found you some money on the ground!" Malfoy said, while nervously looking over at Staros who had a smirk on his face glancing at his watch.

Ron snapped. Before anyone could do anything, he had turned and jumped Draco, hitting him once in the face and wrestling him to the floor of the stands. Neville hesitated for a moment, then slid off his seat to help. Hermione was watching Harry, Staros was looking at the whole mess. Soon, Crabbe and Goyle had figured out their boss needed help and joined in. Neville managed to keep them at bay while Ron was slapping Draco, being unable to get a better position due to the stands narrow foot space which also hindered Draco from getting up.

Up in the air, Snape turned his broom just in time to see Harry streak past him, missing by mere inches. A couple seconds later, Harry was pulling hard out of the dive, his arm raise in triumph with the snitch in hand. He landed and hopped off his broom. Staros looked at his watch and nodded.

"Draco, you owe me twenty. Fourteen minutes, thirty-eight seconds. My win. Ta-ta!" Staros said as he left the scene of the fight, which had paused the moment he started speaking. By the time Staros had reached the steps down, Hermione had shot past him and the others were sorting themselves out, none of them wanting to get into trouble for fighting.

Down on the field, the other players had landed and the Gryffindors were collecting around their players to celebrate. The game was less than thirty minutes. Some people hadn't even started in on their snacks.


	29. Chance to Study

It was two more days before Harry let Staros know about the meeting Snape had with Quirrelll in the Forbidden Forest. While Staros agreed that Snape seemed to dislike Harry for reasons unknown, he didn't think Snape was after the Stone and had been unaware of the Gryffindors' conclusions. Harry had Staros meet him in the library later that day where Hermione laid out their evidence. It made for a strong case, but not a definitive one in Staros' mind. Still, he promised not to say anything and to keep his eyes open for anything odd.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all checked on the third floor door to make sure Fluffy was still there on a frequent basis. Staros said it wasn't worth the time or the risk of being caught to check it as often as they did, but did check into it himself a few times for them.

The weeks went by with nothing coming of their checks and Staros was starting to wonder why he still involved himself with it at all. Carcerous kept him on his toes with the new strategy of popping up out of nowhere to throw things at his master. A few others asked about this and were informed about 'situational awareness' training. Soon after, Carcerous was doing the same to a couple other students. The Twins took this to be perfect cover for some of their own tricks and used Carcerous to their great advantage, sniping people with pranks whenever things were being thrown.

Things became decidedly worse for all as exams approached. Hermione started to develop a slight… insistence… that they all start studying. Two and a half months early. It seemed the teachers were of similar minds as the homework was piled on the students like dirt on a grave. Easter was about as exciting as doing taxes. It was hard to relax when every spare moment of the day, Hermione, and sometimes a few others, spent the entire time muttering about ingredients, practicing wand movements, or going on about Emric the Evil as if their lives depended on the answers. Everyone spent entirely too much time in the library, trying to catch up on all the extra work.

"I'll never remember all this!" Ron cried out one day, earning a pointed look from Madame Pince. He threw down his quill and looked out the window at the perfectly blue sky with the promise of summer on the wind. Staros merely chuckled at him and continued to write.

Harry, who was doing his potions essay, didn't even pause in his writing until he heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hermione, slightly annoyed, piped up.

"Honestly, Ronald! Just because he's not in school with us doesn't mean he can't better himself with some self-study!"

Hagrid seemed to latch onto that like a lifeline, "Err… Jus' lookin.' Like she said, pickin' up a few things. What're ye lot up ter? Not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flammel are yeh?"

"Oh, figured that one out a while back, Hagrid," said Staros, looking up from his essay. Hagrid seemed to be hiding a book behind his back.

"AND we know what the dog's guarding, it's a Sorc…" was as far as Ron got, trying to look impressive.

"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see who was near. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what the matter with yeh?"

"There are some things we wanted to ask about," said Harry. "Like what else is guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy."

"SHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen, come an' see me later. Not promisin' nottin, mind, but don go rabbitin' it about in here. Students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I told yeh."

"See you later then," said Harry as Hagrid walked off, hiding whatever book he had in his coat as he did so.

"What was he hiding I wonder," said Hermione thoughtfully.

"Think it has anything to do with the Stone?" asked Harry.

"I'll go check the section he was in," volunteered Ron, obviously just wanting to do anything besides study some more. He came back a few minutes later with several books in his arms. Putting them down, he started to pass them around.

"Look at these!" Ron said excitedly. "He's reading about dragons! _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland_: _From Egg to Inferno: A Dragon Keeper's Guide_!"

There were a few other books as well, most relating to the raising and care of dragons.

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon," Harry said quietly. "Told me so the first time I ever met him."

"But, it's against the law!" said Ron. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlock Convention of 1709, everyone knows that!"

Hermione humphed at that bit of 'common' knowledge obviously NOT knowing about it herself.

"Yeah, it is a bit hard to keep dragons part of the Statue of Secrecy. They're not known for playing well with the rules hiding magic," said Staros.

"Too right!" Ron shot back. "You should see the burns Charlie's got from the ones on the reserve in Romania."

"But aren't there wild dragons in Britain?" asked Harry.

"Of course there are," answered Ron. "Common ones like Welch Greens and the occasional Hebridean Blacks. Ministry has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on muggles who've spotted them, make them forget."

Hermione looked upset about the whole spelling mundanes thing, but also knew it was necessary for the Secrecy.

"I wonder what Hagrid's up to?" Harry mumbled.

When they approached the gamekeeper's hut an hour or so later, they were surprised to see he had all the windows covered and Fang was laying outside rather than at his customary place by the fire. They knocked on the front door, noticing the heat emanating from it.

"Who is it?" Hagrid called out, before he poked his head out, saw them, checked around to see if anyone else was looking, and then let them in, quickly shutting the door behind them. It was like being in a bad mystery or spy movie.

Except for the part where Hagrid's hut felt like an oven. Despite the nice day outside, there was a large fire blazing away in the grate. Hagrid offered to make a pot of tea and sandwiches which everyone refused, taking plain water instead as they were starting to sweat immensely.

"So… yeh wanted t' ask me somethin'," Hagrid said.

"Yes," said Harry. No point beating around the bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy."

Hagrid frowned for a moment, then sighed and sat back on his bed.

"O' course, I can't," he started, raising his hand at the signs of protest. "Number one, I don' rightly know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's there fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outa Gringotts, I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"That one's easy, Hagrid" said Staros, "we walked in on him by mistake."

Hagrid frowned slightly at the thought of students being that close to the large three-headed dog.

"Come on now, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know. You know about everything else that goes on around here," piped up Hermione in a warm, flattery voice. "We only wondered about who had done the guarding really. Who Professor Dumbledore trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

Seeing Hagrid sit up a little straighter and puff up a bit at Hermione's words made Staros wonder just how Slytherin the girl could get.

"Well, I don' s'ppose it could hurt ter tell yeh that… let's see… he borrowed Fluffy from me… then some o' the other teachers did their own enchantments… Pr'fessor Sprout… Pr'fessor Flitwick… Pr'fessor McGonagall… "said Hagrid as he ticked off his fingers. "Pr'fessor Quirrell… an' Dumbledore himself did soemthin' o' course. Oh, and Pr'fessor Snape."

"Really? Snape?" asked Ron.

"Yeah, yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not abou' ter steal it."

The students all glanced at each other, each thinking that if Snape was involved in the Stone' protection, it wouldn't be hard for him to work out the other teachers' tricks as well. If he was trying to steal it, he might be having a difficult time working out how to get past all their ideas, Fluffy being one of the harder ones it seemed.

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" Harry asked anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows 'cept me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly.

"Well, that's something," Harry muttered to the others.

Hermione was fanning herself in the rising heat.

"Hagrid, can we open a window or something? It's really hot and I'm boiling," she asked.

"Can't, sorry," Hagrid said, glancing at the fire. Harry noticed.

"Hagrid, what's that?"

Everyone's attention was drawn to the almost hidden on the far side of the fire large black roundish object. Remembering what books Hagrid had looked into, they were all pretty sure what it was.

"Ah… that's… er…"

"Where'd ya get it?" Ron asked, crouching down to get a better look at what must be a dragon egg. "It must have cost a fortune."

Staros couldn't help but notice that even with his awe over the egg, Ron couldn't keep the tinge of jealousy out of his voice when asking about the value.

"Won it," said Hagrid, smiling. "Las' night, I did. I was down in the village, havin' a few pints an' got inta a game o' cards with a strange feller. Seem'd like he was glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"Probably because dragon breeding is illegal," said Staros.

"What are you going to do with it when it hatches?" asked Hermione.

"well, I been doin' some readin'," Hagrid said with a wide grin. He pulled a book out from behind him. "Got this outta the library."

The book was titled _Dragon Breeding for Fun and Profit_.

"It's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed wit' chicken blood every half hour. An' see here, how ter rec'nize dif'rent eggs. What I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

Hagrid looked decidedly pleased with himself as he poked the egg with a stick to roll it over a bit and make sure it was in the hottest part of the fire. Hermione, on the other hand, looked very irritated.

"Hagrid, you live in a WOODEN HOUSE," she said pointedly.

Hagrid ignored her, humming to himself and poking at the fire.

Naturally, of course, this now meant that there was a new thing to worry about, namely what would happen when, not if, but when, people found out about Hagrid's 'pet.' It was only a matter of time before someone either noticed Hagrid's preoccupation or his hut was burned to the ground.

"I wonder what it's like to have a normal life, not surrounded by scaly things," Ron sighed one evening. They were in the library pushing through the piles of extra homework assigned. Hermione had gone so far as to devise study schedules for her friends. It had been quite amusing to see her tentatively hand the ones she'd made for Staros to him, like he was going to bite her or something. Instead, he merely thanked her and tried to make those scheduled times as often as he could, much to Ron's continued annoyance.

A couple days later, Harry got another note via Hedwig from Hagrid. Despite Ron's protests, Harry insisted on telling Staros and Hermione backed up Harry saying that 'the slimy Slytherin' had kept it a secret when he didn't have to and deserved to know. The note only had two words. "It's hatching."

That morning, Harry and Ron had Herbology. Ron wanted to skive off, but Hermione was having none of that. Staros left as he had Charms that morning and promised to see them at Hagrid's hut.

"Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?" protested Ron.

"We've got lessons! We'll get into trouble and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing!"

"Shut up!" Harry whispered.

Draco had been walking by and stopped dead at some point. Had he heard? How much? Harry didn't like the look on Draco's face at all.


	30. Sunny with a Chance of Flowers

Staros only had a single period of Charms, unlike the Gryffindors' double period of Herbology, so he made his way down to Hagrid's hut much sooner than they did. After being let in, Staros sat 'comfortably' in the single large chair Hagrid had acquired to boil alive while waiting on the egg to hatch. The egg shifted in the fire and twisted a few times. Hagrid used a large pair of tongs to pick it up and place it on the table where it continued to rock and shift.

As the first cracks were starting to appear, the three Gryffindors made it to the hut. Everyone gathered around the table to watch as the cracks widened and the egg rolled a couple times. All at once, there was a loud scraping sound and the egg burst in two. An ungainly shape fell from between the pieces of the shell, popped its head up and hissed.

The baby dragon was hardly pretty. Harry thought it looked like a crumpled black umbrella. Ron was quite fascinated by it, having heard stories from his brother Charlie. Hermione was trying to pick out the differences between what the dragon looked like and other known lizards. Staros simply thought about the trouble Hagrid was going to get himself into. All were impressed and thankful they had been here to witness the event.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out his hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing off its pointed fangs.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!" cooed Hagrid. Staros was more of the opinion that the dragon had recognized that the rest of them were NOT dragons.

"Hagrid," said Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow exactly?"

Hagrid looked about to answer when he suddenly paled and jumped up towards the window next to the front door.

"What's the matter?" asked Ron.

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains. Looks like a student, he's runnin' fer the school."

Harry bolted to the door and looked out. Even at the distance, he recognized that hair. Draco.

During the next week, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were very nervous. Staros told them they had nothing to worry about if Draco hadn't said anything yet, he was likely trying to be cunning and had some elaborate plan in the works. This did nothing to comfort the three Gryffindors.

It wasn't any better in the Slytherin dorms as Staros had to put up with the weird little smiles from Draco every time they saw one another. After a bit, Staros got that to stop though when he cornered Draco in the common room one day.

"Seriously, Draco, you have to just accept it. I don't swing that way," said Staros in a voice just loud enough to be heard by a few passing third years and a couple others nearby. Everyone in hearing seemed to pause their activities just to catch what sounded like a bit of juicy gossip.

"What?" came Draco's confused reply.

"I've seen the looks, Draco. Following me around. Staring at me like some piece of candy. It's got to stop. I don't want you to pine away for something you can't have."

The look of confusion gave way to utter horror as Draco stared for a moment, then beat a hasty retreat to his room. Staros sighed theatrically, then seemed to notice everyone eavesdropping. Assuming the look of tired resignation, Staros walked slowly and stiffly back to his dorm room, as if to comfort poor Draco. Whispers from a few people began the moment he left the room. With any luck, Draco would avoid him for weeks.

After telling Blaise about it, the poor Italian boy had a hard time not bursting into laughter every time he saw Draco. Just after being told, he laughed himself into a ball on the floor, Staros being almost as bad. The two took almost an hour to recover from the fit and stop giggling like schoolgirls every few minutes. It was quite painful actually.

The campaign to get Hagrid to let the little dragon go continued, however. Every chance they got, the Gryffindors were at Hagrid's hut trying to get him to see reason, Staros often there just to watch in amusement.

"Just let him go," Harry said one day. "Set him free."

"I can't," said Hagrid, sniffling. "He's too little. He'd die."

The students looked at the 'baby' dragon. 'Too little' seemed to include being more than a meter and a half long and probably weighing seven or so stone. The bursts of flame and constant smoke trails from its nostrils attested to what it thought of being 'too little.'

"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's mommy?"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered just loud enough for the others to hear.

"You know, Hagrid, a couple more weeks and Norbert here will be too big to hide in your house." Said Staros, flicking a piece of chicken at the dragon. Norbert seemed to like Staros the best of the students, probably because he stayed back but always threw him a chunk of meat when he visited. "Of course, that assumes he doesn't burn the place down by accident."

"And Malfoy's gonna tell someone. You know he will," said Harry.

Hagrid looked worried at this. He chewed his lower lip in thought, torn between wanting to keep the dragon and knowing he had to give him up.

"I… I know I can't keep 'im forever, but I can't jus' dump him. I can't"

Harry suddenly turned to Ron.

"Charlie."

Ron looked baffled, "You're losing it too mate. I'm Ron, remember?"

"No, Charlie, your brother, that Charlie? In Romania. Studying dragons. We could maybe send Norbert there. Charlie could take care of him and get him back into the wild!"

"Brilliant!" exclaimed Ron. "How about it, Hagrid?"

Hermione and Staros both commented on the wisdom of the plan and in the end, Hagrid broke down and agreed it was for the best. Harry and Ron wrote a letter that night to Charlie, asking him for his help.

The week dragged by, Draco seemed to stop making as many sudden, smiling appearances, which relieved the Gryffindors but caused Staros to chuckle every time they saw Draco. He wouldn't tell them what was so funny, nor why Draco only looked like he was up to something when Staros wasn't with them. He usually went elsewhere when Staros was about, never quite looking like he was running away. Draco had even stopped coming to Staros' morning training sessions.

One morning, Staros saw Harry and Hermione sitting without Ron at breakfast. Curious, he walked over to see what was up.

"Hey guys, where's the human garbage disposal?"

"Ron?" said Hermione. "He got bit last night by Norbert. He's with Madame Pomfrey for a few days."

Staros chuckled at that.

"I'll send him flowers," Staros said, earning an evil look from Harry and a confused one from Hermione. "Tell you another time, Herms. So, hear from Charlie?"

Hermione huffed at Staros' reference to her name but answered anyway. "Yes, last night."

"So, everything's set?"

"Yeah, for Saturday. We have it handled, but we'll let you know if we need help," said Harry.

"Cheerio then! That's one of your British terms, right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and nodded. Looking pleased, Staros left.


	31. Moonlit Chances

Saturday night rolled around and Staros was pensive. He couldn't sleep wondering if the plan was going well or not. He was a Slytherin after all and Slytherin's are all about well executed plans rather than the typical Gryffindor rushing headlong into trouble with nary a thought. He was disturbed in his musings by the sounds of their dorm room door opening.

Staros opened his bed curtains to look about. Nothing seemed off, but wait, Draco's bed was empty. Wondering what the less cunning housemate was up to, Staros slipped out of bed and shrugged on his robes and a cloak. Since the incident with the three-headed dog, Staros had taken to sleeping in a pair of pants and light shirt, all in black, just in case he needed to be up sneaking around.

Easing open the door, he saw the hall was empty. Staros made his way down the hall and into the common room just in time to see Draco exiting the entry arch. Waiting a few moments, Staros followed when he thought it was likely Draco wouldn't notice.

Staros kept a decent distance between himself and Draco, all the while staying to the shadows and following along as quietly as possible. They had made it to the base of the Astronomy tower when Draco suddenly stopped and looked around. Staros simply stopped in the shadow of one of the many suits of armor that lined almost every hall. After a few moments, Draco settled himself into an alcove just off the stairs up the tower, most likely in wait for someone to pass by.

Staros realized that this was probably part of the plan that he hadn't been told about. Any minute now, Harry and Hermione, maybe Ron too, would be hauling Norbert through the corridor and up to people waiting to take him to the reserve in Romania. And Draco was there to cause gods know what mischief.

Stepping out of the shadows, Staros walked up to Draco and tapped him on the shoulder. As Draco had been facing the other way, looking for Harry, he jumped and yelped in surprise.

"Late night stroll, Drakey?" asked Staros.

"What are you doing here? Go away before you get us caught!"

"Funny you should ask, I was kind of wondering what YOU were doing here."

A flicker of movement past Draco's shoulder was all the warning the two Slytherins got as Professor McGonagall rounded a corner to find them.

"And what, may I ask, are you two doing out of bed past curfew?" the stern woman asked, stalking up to them.

"Professor! Potter's going to be here any minute! He's sneaking a dragon out of the school!" yelped Draco.

McGonagall's face became even harder if such was possible. Grabbing Draco by the ear and Staros by the shoulder, she began to march them off towards the Slytherin dorms.

"Detentions for you both!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin for your lies, Mr. Malfoy! Wait until I have a word with Professor Snape about this!"

As they were being hauled off, Staros caught sight of a grinning Harry for the briefest of moments. A quick thumbs up in the direction he thought Harry would be and Staros let himself be led away.

The next morning, Gryffindor was down a hundred and fifty points. While Staros knew that he and Draco had lost points for their own house, this setback for the House of the Brave put them solidly in last place for the House Cup.

Confusion amongst the students gave way to anger, disappointment or amusement depending on what house you were in as the story of Harry, Hermione, and Neville, but the main focus was on Harry, were caught out of bed late at night and lost the points. Harry went quickly from being the most popular boy in school to the most despised, even managing to sink lower on some people's estimations than Draco.

Everywhere Harry went, Slytherins were cheering him and clapping while others would point and not even bother to lower their voices when insulting him. Ron stood by him the whole time, but Hermione stayed out of the limelight, trying to be as small as possible. Neville simply hid from everyone.

Under the guise of giving Harry some grief, Staros asked if things went as planned, other than the point deduction and getting caught thing that is. Being assured that Norbert was on his way to Romania, Staros made to laugh at Harry and walked off, keeping up appearances. Harry seemed to understand, but Ron, not having been with them during the delivery of Norbert, was absolutely sure that Staros was the reason Harry had gotten caught despite what Harry or Hermione said about it.

Draco was much quieter than his usual self. He openly blamed it on the workload as exams were approaching, but Staros, hence Blaise, Daphne and Tracey, knew otherwise. Snape had been particularly nasty in dressing down the two first years after they had been delivered to him by McGonagall. Having been awakened at nearly one in the morning only made it that much worse. Normally, the Head of Slytherin would take their detentions himself. This time, his irritation showed as he agreed to let McGonagall handle it, as an 'abject lesson in stupidity' he had said.

Notes arrived the next day for Draco and Staros in their dorm rooms, to which they were confined as additional punishment. Both notes read the same.

Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.

At eleven that night, Staros and Draco were standing in the entrance hall when Harry, Neville and Hermione walked in, followed quickly by Filch. The Gryffindors seemed surprised to see them, but no one said anything in fear of angering the caretaker and getting into more trouble.

"Follow me," Filch said as he lit a lamp and headed outside.

"I'll bet you think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said as he leered. "Oh yes… hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me. It's such a pity they let the old punishments slide. Hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days would do you all some good. I still have the old chains in my office, well-oiled for the day they realize they're needed. Now, don't you be thinking about running off. It'll be the worse for you."

They marched across the grounds, following the old caretaker and his lonely lamp towards Hagrid's hut. Everyone glanced around at the others, the same thought on their minds. What horrible things did they have to face for their detention? The cackling of the caretaker made them all very, very nervous.

The half-moon was rather bright, but kept being hidden behind moving clouds, throwing the grounds into a surreal light and dark shadow and making normal details bend in the odd light. As they approached Hagrid's hut, they heard a voice call out.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Filch must have noticed their collective looks of relief at the idea of working with Hagrid because ehe suddenly said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well think again! It's into the forest with you lot! And I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece!"

At mention of the forest, Neville groaned and Draco stopped dead in his tracks.

"The forest?" Draco squeaked. "We can't go in there at night! There's all sorts of things in there! Werewolves, I'd heard!"

Staros rolled his eyes while Neville clutched at Harry's sleeve, looking about to faint.

"That's your problem isn't it?" said Filch coldly. "Should've thought about werewolves before you got into trouble, shouldn't you?"

"Oh, shove off, Draco. Werewolves? Seriously?" scoffed Staros. "It's not a full moon, so we shouldn't have to worry about werewolves tonight. Not that there isn't anything else to be worried about in there."

The others seemed to take little comfort in the fact that werewolves were the least things to concern themselves with.

Hagrid came into view, carrying his massive crossbow in one hand, a lamp in the other and a satchel of bolts over one shoulder, Fang trotting along beside him.

"Abou' time," Hagrid growled. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right there, Harry? Hermione?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly with them, Hagrid," Filch interrupted. "They're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot yer place to do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn," sneered Filch, "for what's left of them."

The caretaker gave them all an evil glare then turned and stalked back to the castle.

"I'm not going in that forest," said Draco, standing up to Hagrid. The note of panic in his voice would have been funny were it not echoed in everyone else's hearts.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff! It's not for students to do! I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd…"

"Tell you that's how it is at Hogwarts!" interrupted Hagrid, growling. "Copyin' lines? What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out! If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack! Go on, now!"

Draco stared defiantly at Hagrid for a few moments before Staros laid a hand on his shoulder. Draco shrugged it off, but didn't leave, nor say another word.

"Right then," Hagrid continued as if nothing had happened. "Now, listen carefully, 'cause it's right dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp high, he pointed down a thin, winding path that led into the forest's depths. Light breeze picked up as they looked into the inky black trees.

"Look there," Hagrid said, pointing with the crossbow, "see that shinin' on the ground? Silvery like? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. Second time this week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. Might be havin' ter put it out its misery. Terrible business, that."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" spoke up Draco, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've been staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," Draco said quickly.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward."

"A moment," Staros said. "Carcerous!"

The elf faded into view of the other, Staros having known he was following them the whole time.

"Aye, young master?"

"My blade, Carcerous. And I think a few knives are in order. Anyone else wish to carry something?"

Neville nodded as Carcerous pulled a sack similar to the one they'd all seen at Staros' training. Instead of the practice weapons, they watched as the elf pulled a scabbarded katana like sword form the sack. He handed that to Staros before pulling another scabbarded short sword similar to a Roman gladius and handing that to Neville. A few knives of different sorts were also handed to Staros.

Draco looked torn between wanting a weapon and having to acknowledge his obvious fear. Pride took a back seat as he asked for a rapier which Carcerous provided. Hermione was given a pair of knives, one in silver, one in cold iron. Harry declined a weapon, saying he'd trust Hagrid.

Staros checked each weapon to make sure it would draw freely. As he did so, he caught Hagrid's somewhat disapproving look.

"What? You think I'm going into the forest unarmed?" Staros said. "I may not be as smart as Hermione there, but I'm hardly suicidal."

Checking the sword last, Harry could swear that he heard a whisper coming from the blade as it was exposed. A shiver ran through him as he wondered what kind of blade Staros had. The whisper he thought he heard was cut off as Staros sheathed the blade completely, making Harry wonder if he hadn't imagined the whole thing.

"So, right then, me Harry, Hermione an' Staros'll go this way," said Hagrid, coming to grips with the children carrying weapons. The forest was dangerous after all. "Draco, Neville, an' Fang'll go that way."

"Carcerous, go with them in case they need help," Staros interrupted.

"Aye, young master. I be watchin' dem like dey be me own."

"Done then?" Hagrid asked, a little put out at all the interruptions. "Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right. Get yer wands out an' practice now… that's it… an' if anyone gets inter trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come find yeh. So, be careful, an' let's go."

Everyone was silent as the two groups went their separate ways, Draco, Neville, Fang and Carcerous to the right, Hagrid, Harry, Staros, and Hermione to the left. Hagrid took the lead as they walked as quietly as possible into the trees.

They walked in silence for several minutes, all staring at the ground. Every so often, the moon would break through the clouds and trees to illuminate a spot of silvery-blue on the ground. Harry could see that Hagrid was far more worried than he let on.

"Could a werewolf kill a unicorn?" Harry asked.

"Not fast enough," replied Hagrid. "It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."

"Yeah, Harry, from what I understand, the only thing that can really give a unicorn a run for its money is a human," said Staros sadly. "We're the worst creatures on the planet with the biggest appetite for blood. If there's a unicorn hurt, it's probably some poacher out for a bit of gold."

Hagrid looked even less happy to have that idea bandied about, but took it in stride, nodding absently. They continued to follow the occasional blood splotch, past an old stump of a fallen tree. They could hear running water, probably from a stream nearby. Hermione was looking more upset with every step, tears beginning to threaten.

"You all right, Hermione?" Hagrid whispered after seeing her face. "Don' worry, it can't've gone far if it's this badly hurt, an' then we'll be able ter… GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"

Hagrid shoved the students in the direction of a large oak then grabbed a bolt and slotted it into his crossbow. He had the bow raised and ready to fire, peering into the darkness ahead of them. Something slithered over the dead leaves, not like a snake, more like something light being dragged, a cloak or robes maybe. Hagrid tried to track the sound, but it was too far away to really get a fix and before long, they couldn't hear it anymore.

"I knew it," Hagrid said. "There's summat in here that shouldn't be"

"A werewolf?" asked Harry.

"That wasn' no werewolf an' it wasn' no unicorn, neither. Staros' poacher's more likely. Right, follow me, but careful, now."

They walked on a bit further, keeping slow and trying to stay as quiet as possible. They listened for any sounds out of the ordinary, straining themselves to identify anything they did hear. Suddenly, in a small clearing ahead, there was definite movement.

"Who's there?" Hagrid called out, bringing his crossbow to the ready. "Show yerself! I'm armed!"

Out of the brush walked… a man? a horse? Then they saw it… him, fully. From the waist down, a horse, from the waist up, a man. A centaur. Harry and Hermione both stared in awe at their first encounter with another magical being. Staros couldn't help but smile at them.

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," Hagrid said, relieved and lowering the crossbow. "How are yeh?"

Hagrid walked forward and shook the centaur's hand.

"Good evening to you, Hagrid," Ronan replied, a note of sorrow in his voice. "Were you going to shoot me?"

"Can't be too careful, Ronan. There's summat bad loose in the forest. This here's Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Staros Marcus. Students from the school. This here's Ronan, you lot. He's a centaur."

"We noticed," Hermione managed to say faintly.

"Good evening," said Ronan, looking slightly amused. "Students are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"

"Erm…" came Harry's eloquent reply.

"A bit," said Hermione.

Staros smiled at them, then turned to the centaur and bowed low.

"We learn more than we wish, and less than we should, Stargazer," Staros said formally.

"At least that's something," Ronan sighed. He flung his head back suddenly, gazing up at the stars visible through the break in the trees. "Mars is bright tonight."

Of the fours standing before him, the centaur noticed that only the boy, Staros, seemed to react with anything other than confusion. In fact, Staros frowned at the statement and looked up himself, as if trying to see what the centaur saw in the stars.

"Yeah," said Hagrid, glancing up. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt. You seen anythin'?"

Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared at the sky for a few moments longer then sighed again.

"Always the innocent are the first victims. So it has been for ages past, so it is now."

Hermione's already upset face fell a little further when he said that. Staros nudged Harry in her direction. Harry, to his credit saw her face and took her hand. She looked up at him, still on the verge of tears and smiled sadly.

"Yeah," said Hagrid, not really comprehending, "but have yeh seen anythin,' Ronan? Anythin' unusual?"

"Mars is bright tonight. Unusually bright."

"Yeah, I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home. So yeh haven't noticed anythin' strange?"

Ronan again took a long pause before answering.

"The forest holds many secrets."

Movement in the trees behind Ronan cause Hagrid to tense and half raise his crossbow before they saw it was another centaur, one of heftier build and darker than Ronan.

"Hullo, Bane," said Hagrid, dropping the crossbow down again. "All right?"

"Good evening, Hagrid. I hope you are well?" Bane glanced briefly at the crossbow, but didn't ask about it like Ronan had.

"Well enough," replied Hagrid. "Look, I've jus' been askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in here lately? There's a unicorn bin injured, would yeh know anythin' about it?"

Bane walked over and joined Ronan under the small bit of sky. He too looked upwards.

"Mars is bright tonight," he said simply, just like Ronan.

"We've heard," Hagrid grumped. "Well, if either of yer do see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off then."

The small group left the clearing back the way they'd come. Harry and hermione kept glancing back at the centaurs until the trees hid them completely from view. Staros walked staring at his feet, obviously deep in thought, tuning out Hagrid telling the others about the centaurs and their habits.

'Mars is bright, unusually so he said. Old Father back home would probably tell me it wasn't for humans to understand, right before he told me what it was anyway. Mars is bright usually means change, conflict… war. What's going on? A lot of things seem to be happening earlier than expected.'

The boy's thoughts were interrupted by Harry's shout.

"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks! The others are in trouble!"

"You all wait here!" Hagrid shouted, shouldering his crossbow. "Stay on the path, I'll be back fer yeh!"


	32. Stars, Chance, and Sorrow

The three students watched as Hagrid tore off to help the others, crashing through the brush and trees until they couldn't hear him anymore.

"You don't think they've been hurt, do you?" asked Hermione.

"I don't care if Malfoy is, but if something's got Neville… it's our fault he's here in the first place," whispered Harry.

"Well, the blame for Neville might be yours, but it is kinda my fault that Draco got caught. I mean, I did follow him and blow his cover," said Staros. "Mind you, I won't feel bad if he gets hurt, but I really won't celebrate it either. It seems to me, he's almost as Gryffindor as the rest of you for thinking ahead."

"Gee, thanks," Harry replied, dripping sarcasm.

"Anytime," Staros shot back with a grin.

Silence fell as they waited for any sign of the others. Minutes dragged as they strained to hear anything that would tell them what was happening. After a bit, their patience nearly at its end, they heard the faint crunching of sticks and debris that told them several feet were approaching. Wondering if it was Hagrid with the others or possible another foe, they all slipped back against trees to keep hidden in case they had to run.

A few minutes later, Hagrid stalked out of the trees dragging Neville, Draco, and Fang behind him. Carcerous was traipsing through the shadows in and out of the trees onto either side of the group.

Turns out, no one was in any actual danger. It seems that Draco had snuck up on Neville while they were looking around and grabbed him from behind. This caused Neville to panic and shoot the red sparks. While Carcerous found the situation slightly funny, Neville was right put out. Draco looked torn between thinking it was funny, getting mad at being caught, and scared witless at the thought of attracting attention in the forest at night. Hagrid was fuming and telling Draco repeatedly about the danger he put himself and Neville in by making so much noise. No one knew what Fang thought.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, what with all the racket you two were makin'. Right then, we're changin' groups," declared Hagrid. "Neville, you come with me an' Hermione. Staros, Harry, you take this idiot an' Fang. Sorry about this, fellas," Hagrid added in a whisper, "but he's not likely to scare the two o' yeh, an' we gotta get this done."

With a sigh, Staros nodded. Harry looked a bit ticked, but nodded as well. So it was that Harry, Staros and Draco trudged off with Fang down the path, trying to follow the vanishing unicorn blood trail. They walked for about half an hour, deeper into the thickening forest, until they could scarcely see the path anymore. Harry commented that the blood patches seemed fresher and thicker, Staros agreed. Draco said they were both barmy in a fit of spite, but kept looking around nervously, obviously thinking they were right. Coming across one particular patch of blood, they could see it wasn't just on the ground, but spattered up the side of one tree they rounded, as if the poor beast had been thrashing around in pain. Just ahead was a small clearing, the moonlight casting weird shadows through the trees.

"Look!" said Harry, holding his arms out to stop the other two.

Something bright white was laying on the ground, the moon having cast its light directly over it for a moment. The trio slowly inched forward, darting looks all around. As they approached, they saw the white object was indeed the unicorn, stretched out and lying on its side, its legs at odd angles where it had fallen. At first, they thought it was dead, even Draco looked upset to see such a terrible sight, but it twitched, a foreleg spasmed.

They moved forward, to see if there was anything they could do when a slithery sound made them freeze in place. A bush to their left quivered, and then a shadowy form shot out of it, stalking towards the fallen unicorn like a shark, circling inward. The unicorn tried to get up, but it was too far gone. The boys watched in horror as the shadow crept up to the poor beast and lowered what must be its head to one of the many bleeding wounds. A sick, slurping sound could be heard in the eerie silence.

"AAAAHHH!" Draco screamed, turned and bolted from the clearing, Fang close behind. The noise caused the shadow to lift its head and swivel in their direction. It made to move towards them, Staros and Harry both trembling in fear and disgust as they could see the silvery trail of blood down its front.

Staros seemed to forget he had his sword, or both boys their wands as the figure drew closer. Harry suddenly gasped in pain, clutched his forehead and fell to his knees. Staros grabbed Harry's shoulder and tried to pull him back as the boy's pain seemed to grow with every step the creature took.

From behind them, a thunder of hooves was suddenly heard as a centaur leaped over them to land between the creature and the two struggling boys. As the centaur spun in a circle, drawing its bow, the creature seemed to hesitate, then fled into the trees. Harry gasped for a few more moments as the pain receded, struggling to his feet with Staros' help.

The boys turned to look at the centaur, a younger looking one if they could be any judge, with white-blond hair and a platinum coat.

"Are you all right?" asked the centaur.

"Yes, thank you, what was that?" said Harry.

The centaur didn't answer immediately, instead looking the two boys over intently. He had clear blue, sapphire eyes. Looking them up and down, his gaze lingered a moment on Harry's scar which had reddened in the past few minutes making it stand out.

"You are the Potter boy," the centaur said, not a question, but a statement of fact. "You should return to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time, especially for you."

"A moment, Stargazer," said Staros. "Carcerous!"

With a soft pop, the elf appeared. "Aye, Master Staros?"

"Go to Hagrid, tell him we've found the unicorn. Lead him here."

"Aye, Master Staros," the elf said as he faded away.

"Hagrid will be here shortly, Stargazer," Staros said. "In the meantime, I wish to thank you for your intervention, but we have another task to see to."

Staros walked past the centaur towards the fallen unicorn. The poor creature's breathing was labored, heavy, obviously near death but full of pain. With a tentative hand, Staros reached out to touch the poor thing's side. A flinch, but the unicorn was unable to rise, its head barely able to shift to look at the young boy.

Staros grasped his other hand to the pendant he wore and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his face had taken on a pained expression, full of sorrow. He drew the silvered knife from its sheathe.

"Boy, what do you intend to do?" asked the centaur.

"Your name, Stargazer?"

"I am Firenze, boy," he replied, stepping closer.

"I am Staros. Harry, stay back please. Firenze, this creature is in pain, suffering. I intend to end it quickly, with mercy. I also intend to carry its pain back to the one who inflicted it."

The centaur, Firenze, stepped up to Staros' side. He reached down and clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"You know what price this action demands, do you, boy?"

"Yes," Staros said simply. He reached out and cut a tuft of hair from the unicorn's mane. Then he drew the knife across the horn to carve a small sliver from it. He moved himself to sit by the unicorn's head, lifting it to his lap. He stroked the poor thing's muzzle for a moment, looking into its eyes.

"Someone must pay this price. Will you, Firenze? Will you be the one to cleanse a soul that should never know pain? Will you carry the vengeance of the innocent in your heart? Will you be the one to thrust your hate into the depths of evil? Would you burn your soul for justice?"

Firenze looked down at the boy holding the unicorn's head. His face softened in sorrow. Harry looked on, confused. As he was about to speak up, Firenze answered.

"No. No, I could not."

With this affirmation, Staros looked once more into the eyes of the unicorn, tears threatening, doubts as to what he was about to do tearing into him.

Staros whispered the spell he had been taught by Keeper. A spell he never thought he would ever have to use.

"Magnus letum a'umbra, creatura lux, cor infecta ira, quaerere vindicta luna!" (Great One slain by Darkness, Creature of the Light, Heart tainted by Anger, I seek Vengeance this Night!)

With a wordless cry, he suddenly plunged the silvered knife into the small chest of the unicorn and twisted.

The blade pierced the beast's heart. Used on a horse, he would have been unable to do so, but a unicorn has a smaller frame, a thinner breastbone, and its heart closer to the surface. With a slight jerk, the unicorn struggled to lift up once, then settled back down as the last of its lifeblood spilled onto the forest floor. And Staros' hands.

Firenze watched dispassionately as Staros ended the life of the pained beast. Harry stared, shocked.

"What did you do?" Harry shouted. "Hagrid could have helped it! You killed it! Why?"

Firenze moved to Harry put his hand on his shoulder.

"Young Potter, the unicorn was dying. It was in terrible pain. Would you have extended its suffering? Young Staros will carry a heavy burden for this act of mercy. Never again can he claim to be innocent. Young Harry, can you understand?

Before he could answer, more hooves could be heard approaching. Ronan and Bane burst through the trees, heaving and sweaty from their run. Bane saw Staros with the blood covering his blade and hands and immediately went for his bow. Firenze stepped between them.

"No, Bane. This boy is not yours to strike down."

"Firenze! What are you doing? This human has killed a unicorn! Why do you protect it? Have you no shame?"

"This boy has done us a service in ending the unicorn's pain. It was dying anyway, the creature that attacked it having done too much to save it. He knows the price of his actions."

Ronan laid his hand on Bane's shoulder and whispered something to him. Whatever was said, Bane lowered his bow, but the look of anger did not leave his face.

"Do you know who this other is? This is the Potter boy, he needs to leave this forest. The sooner, the better," Firenze said.

"What have you been telling him?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movement of the planets?"

Ronan looked nervous. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best."

"For the best! What has that to do with us? Centaurs…"

"Are as stubborn in their foretelling as they are dangerous in the hunt!" shouted Staros suddenly.

"Boy, do not test me!" warned Bane.

"Test you? No, it is not I that would test you Stargazer! That, is for the heavens you hold so dear! Your tests will be ones of honor, of loyalty to oaths sworn long ago. Your tests will be of blood spilt in the defense of your homelands. But most importantly, your tests will be against your own hearts! Tell me about Mars! How bright is it?"

Bane backed off, growling and muttering to himself.

"Did you not see the wounds on the unicorn, Bane?" Firenze asked. "Do you not understand why it was killed, or have the planets not let you in on that little secret? I set myself against what is lurking in the forest, even should I have humans alongside me."

Unnoticed in the centaurs' tirades, Hagrid had walked into the clearing, Carcerous leading him. Bane stalked off, Ronan following with a look of concern on his face. He glanced back once at Staros, a brief look of sorrow.

Hagrid looked at Staros and saw the blood on his hands, a knife lying next to him, the unicorn's head still cradled in his lap. Hagrid saw the pain on the boy's face and realized what had been done. As gamekeeper, he had been forced to put down more than a few beasts in his time, thankfully never a unicorn. Catching Staros' eye, he nodded once before shouldering his crossbow.

"Oy, Harry. Yeh all right there?" Hagrid asked.

"Hagrid, he… Staros ki…"

"Aye, Harry, aye. Don' be worryin' about it now. I bin forced to do summat like that a few times meself. Don' be hard on the lad."

Harry looked up at Hagrid, disbelief on his face before he remembered, Hagrid was the Gamekeeper. It was his duty to tend to the animals of the forest, even if that meant putting one down. Harry nodded once, tears still in his eyes.

"Where are the others?"

"I left 'em with Fang back a'ways. When yeh ready, we'll be joinin' em."

Firenze had remained quiet during this exchange, standing by Harry in case the boy needed help. As Harry was about to join Hagrid, he put his hand on his shoulder again and said quietly, "Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

Harry looked up, surprised. He looked back at Staros, still kneeling with the unicorn, Carcerous beside him. Looking back to Firenze, he shook his head no.

"It is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn. Your friend will be feeling the pain for many of his days I fear. But only one who is truly desperate, who has nothing at all to lose would commit such an act willingly. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death. But at a terrible price. To slay something so pure, so defenseless merely to save yourself will give nothing more than the shade of life, a cursed life from the moment the blood touches your lips."

Harry glanced back at Staros who was whispering to Carcerous, then at Hagrid who looked none too happy at the wait.

"Who would be that desperate?" Harry asked, just as quietly. "If you're going to be cursed forever, isn't death better?"

"It is," said Firenze. "Unless, you need it to stay alive just long enough to find another solution, to drink something else that will bring you back to your full strength and power, perhaps something that will mean you can never die. Young Harry, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

Harry thought for a moment.

"The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course! But, who?"

"Can you think of nobody who would need such a drink? One who has waited an eternity to return to former power?"

Harry looked back at Staros and Carcerous who seemed done with whatever they were doing. Staros was standing at least, Carcerous had popped away, keeping his distance from the Firenze and Harry while they spoke. A horrible thought occurred to Harry. With a sinking feeling, he looked over at Hagrid, waiting somewhat impatiently at the edge of the clearing. Harry could almost hear Hagrid's voice in his head, remembering what he had said when they had met: '…Some say he died. Codswallop if you ask me. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die…'

"You don't mean, that was Vold…"

Firenze's slight clenching of his hand on Harry's shoulder stopped him from saying the name out loud.

"Good luck, Harry Potter," Firenze said, raising his voice back to normal. "The planets have been read wrongly before, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times. Farewell, my friend Hagrid."

With a nod to Hagrid, Firenze turned and walked off into the trees the same way Ronan and Bane had gone.

While all this was happening, Staros had called Carcerous over. Seeing that Firenze wished to impart some knowledge to Harry, Staros took this time to make sure he had all that was needed.

"Carcerous, bring me the ebony case that Keeper gave you."

Carcerous looked a little surprised at the request, but nodded quickly before reaching out into his pockets and pulling out a small, black box. He handed the box over to Staros and waited.

Staros opened the black box. Inside were several empty vials and a pillow of satin, all done in deep ruby red. Opening a couple of the vials, he placed the horn sliver in one and the tuft of hair in another. Taking one vial, he pressed it against the unicorn's chest where he had stabbed it. Tears threatened to fall again as he drew some of the heart's blood into the vial and capped it off. Finally, he put all the vials and the knife used into the box and closed it. He handed it back to Carcerous.

"Put this in my vault. I will have need to speak with the goblins later about it."

With a nod, Carcerous faded away to deliver his burden. Staros stood and looked over to Harry who was having a panic moment by the looks of things. When Firenze said his farewells and walked off, Staros moved over to Harry and together they walked to Hagrid. Silence seemed to be appropriate as they all left the clearing saying nothing. Nothing more was said all the way back to the castle.


	33. Chance Interlude

The next weeks before the end of term were a madhouse in their own right. Never mind that, after Harry told them about the conversation with Firenze, save Draco of course, the little group kept wondering if Voldemort would pop up somewhere in the school. Harry was particularly on edge most of the time and it didn't help that Hermione was pushing everyone to study everything from day one all over again, just in case.

Staros had little time to look into his project with the _History_, nor set up the meeting with the goblins that he wanted. While he wasn't as concerned with the idea of Voldemort as the others, the shade being present bothered him, but for different reasons. In between study sessions, he had written to his father, grandfather, and Keeper about the night in the forest. Keeper had not bothered to reply while his grandfather had informed him that the Queen expected him to gather more information on the supposed ghost or wraith of the former Dark Lord. His father simply told him to remember why he was in Britain and to do what was necessary to overcome this roadblock.

Temperatures rose towards the close of the month. Not as warm as California, which Staros was quick to point out quite often when others complained about the heat, but warm enough. Finally, exams were done. One stifling classroom of intense concentration after another, plus the practicals in which spells had to be demonstrated to some degree of proficiency, and everyone was finally allowed to relax.

Staros had distanced himself from the others a bit. Mainly because Harry still had issues with the unicorn's death, but also to avoid any misunderstandings within Slytherin. With tensions high for exams, no one wanted the extra problems of who associated with whom causing more arguments. It certainly didn't help that Ron was back to his 'hate all Slytherins' routine.

The last day of exams, Staros noticed Hermione acting oddly. She had said she was waiting for Professor Flitwick, yet when Professor Snape went to get him, she ran off. Staros followed along, staying back far enough to not be noticed. When she met up with Ron and Harry, Staros stood behind the corner nearby where he could listen, but not be seen.

"… and I've only just got away, I don't know where Snape went," Hermione was saying.

"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Harry said. "I'm going out tonight and I'm going to try to get the Stone first."

"You're mad!" exclaimed Ron.

"You can't!" Hermione said. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"

"SO WHAT?" Harry yelled. "Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school of the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter anymore, don't you see? D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there. It's only dying a little later than I would have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through the trapdoor tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"

Harry was glaring at them. Staros wondered if they realized just how loud they were being.

"You're right, Harry," said Hermione in a small voice.

"I'll use the invisibility cloak," Harry said. "It's good that I got it back."

"Will it cover all three of us?" asked Ron.

"All? What?" Harry spluttered.

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?"

"Of course not," said Hermione briskly. "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go a look through my books, there might be something useful…"

"But, if we get caught, you two will be expelled too."

"Not if I can help it," Hermione said flippantly. "Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

Staros silently agreed with her. He moved off down the corridor, lest he be caught eavesdropping. It looked like he too would be taking a late night stroll.


	34. Walking into Chance

Dinner saw Staros sitting with Blaise across from Daphne and Tracey as usual. He was distracted from his meal, trying to keep an eye on Harry and company. Daphne had soused out that Staros was up to something, but she kept to herself about it, neither asking, nor pointing anything out. She'd long figured out it had to do with his pet Gryffindors.

After dinner, Staros kept to himself. This wasn't remarked upon as many of the students were still coming down from the post-exam stress and many were sitting alone, few engaged in any conversation as they tried to shut down the high gears their brains were in. Thinking hurt too much for many right now.

He had set Carcerous to watch the Gryffindor trio since he was able to remain invisible to others, yet detect when they would be moving about. It was about ten-ish when Carcerous popped in to wake his master form a light nap, letting him know the trio was on the move.

Staros had already planned out his outfit for the night. A loose fitting set of pants and shirt, both in dark grays, a simple robe that allowed him to move freely, and his black cloak, all picked to blend him into shadows and disguise his presence. This time, he took his regular wand, not the one from Ollivander. He carried his sword as well, not thinking he might need it, but always better to be prepared for the worst. A silvered, an iron, and a steel knife rounded out his weapons, just in case. He would have preferred to have the blade he wanted the goblins to make from the unicorn's pieces, but he hadn't had the time to go yet.

After checking himself over, he followed Carcerous through the corridors along the fastest route to the third floor door. The others would be moving slower, he knew, and did not have and elf guiding them through little known shortcuts. Staros felt he had plenty of time to get there and see about what was happening tonight.

Seeing the door opened already did nothing to help his mood. Something odd was going on and Staros had plans that just couldn't be interrupted by all this silliness. Obviously, someone else was playing a game, and a rather poorly planned one at that.

Peeking in the door, Staros saw the trapdoor open and the Fluffy snuffling around it, occasionally trying to stick a head into the hole.

"Carcerous," Staros whispered, not wanting to alert the dog to their presence. "Deal, with the animal would you?"

"Aye, Master Staros, bein' a simple task. Dere be a harp it seems. A bit o'music fer da beastie."

A snap of the elf's fingers and the harp began to play. With a few of its strings broken, the tune was less than perfect, but that seemed to matter little as Fluffy perked his ears, then spun around a couple times, and settled down, curling into a ball to sleep. Occasional twitches showed the animal was dreaming.

'Wow… talk about a Pavlovian reaction. Hagrid must be nuts to train a beast to fall asleep that quickly,' thought Staros.

Walking over to the trapdoor, Staros kept an eye on the dog, just in case. Carcerous looked down the hole for a moment before conjuring a ball of light that he dropped in. The ball fell a few feet before landing on the plant below which began to pull away from the light. Staros sighed seeing this.

"Carcerous, this is just pathetic don't you think?"

"Wat you be meanin,' Master Staros?"

"An easily removed pet and a plant afraid of light are the first two obstacles? Like anyone would jump into a dark hole without dropping a light first? Who comes up with these things?"

"I not be knowin,' Master Staros. Mebbe da thinkers not be all dat or a bag of chips."

Chuckling at Carcerous' weak joke, Staros leapt through the trapdoor onto the largest patch of plant he could see. The plant, looking to be Devil's Snare, absorbed his fall quite nicely. Another ball or three of light, and the two were on the floor and walking to the archway that was the only way out.

A few minutes later, Staros and Carcerous stepped into a room filled with flying keys. And a couple of brooms. Noticing that the door on the far side was already open, they simply walked on. Another long passageway and they came upon another odd room, this one filled with a giant chessboard, looking to be in the middle of a game, with many broken pieces along both sides. Snuffling could be heard coming from the middle of the board.

Carcerous hid himself from view as Staros walked towards the sound. Stepping around the giant chess pieces, he found Hermione sobbing over Ron's body. He quickly walked over.

"What happened?"

A squeak and Hermione nearly fell backwards, pulling her wand as she did so.

"Staros! What are you doing here?"

"Well, a little bird came by and told me about this group of very brave, but very foolish children who would rather play with really big puppies than invite a snake over for tea. What happened to Ron? And where's Harry?"

Hermione was close to breaking into tears again, so Staros slapped her lightly across the face. It was a well-known treatment for impending hysteria.

"Hermione! Snap out of it!"

"You hit me!"

"Yes, I did. Now what happened to Ron and where's Harry?"

Hermione got over her shock at being hit long enough to tell him that Ron had played the chess game so they could get across, taking a hit in the process, and that Harry had continued on.

"Right then. Carcerous, see to these two. I'm off to see what Harry's up to."

"Master Staros…"

"No, Carcerous. Get Ron to the hospital wing first. Hermione, go with, you're about to fall apart and this is no time for that."

Carcerous nodded mutely, Hermione glared, but accepted what Staros said. Not that she had much choice as he had already stalked off through the door behind the white king.

Staros walked along yet another long passageway before coming to a room with a horrible smell emanating from it. Inside the room was a dead troll. It looked, and smelled, to have been dead for some time, possibly months. Hurrying on, Staros came to yet another room, this one having the door blocked by blue flames. Drawing his sword, and ignoring the whispering sounds it emanated, Staros passed it through the flames and noted the way the flames tried to cling to the blade. Grimacing, he wondered how he would pass.

A quick examination of the outer part of the doorway revealed some faint runes embedded in the frame. Seeing how they would be invisible from the inside of the room, Staros figured the trap was to allow one to walk in, the flames would spring up, and not being able to see the runes would prevent anyone from easily disabling the firetrap.

Taking a two-handed grip on his sword, Staros swung the blade against the runed doorframe. With a jarring THUNK!, the blade chopped into the frame and severed the rune paths. A whispering hiss drew attention to the edge of the blade as it seemed to be absorbing the runes themselves. With a sickly smile, Staros waited until the blade had drawn the runes across itself, each rune fading into the metal. The whispering grew louder for a moment, then dropped back down to its usual level.

Sheathing his sword, Staros walked through the now flameless doorway into another room. This one had a potions table with several different sized vials on it. Two more vials lay on the floor next to a piece of parchment. Picking up the note, Staros read through the riddle and snorted. Looking back up at the wall of black flames that prevented him from moving onward, Staros drew his blade again.

Another chopped rune pattern, absorbed runes, and the sword now had slight blue-black flames dancing on the edge. Wondering at this phenomenon, Staros looked at the blade for moment before remembering why he was here. Time enough to look into this later. He continued on.

A couple more minutes and Staros was just outside another room, this one large and circular with pillars blocking his view. Voices came from inside, Harry's being one, the other unknown. Staros hid himself behind a pillar to see what played out.


	35. Party to Chance

Peeking around the corner but staying in the shadow, Staros saw the Mirror of Erised, Professor Quirrel and Harry. Well, it was sort of Quirrell anyway. On the back of his head was a monstrous, deformed face. It was this face that was speaking to Harry.

"…but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds… unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks… you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest… and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own… Now… why don't you give me the Stone in your pocket?"

Harry stumbled back and fell to the floor.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face that could only be Voldemort. "Better save your own life and join me… or you'll meet the same end as your parents… they died begging for mercy…"

"LIAR!" shouted Harry, throwing a stone from the floor at the face. It was batted aside without any effort. Quirrell's body moved towards Harry, walking backwards a little clumsily so that Voldemort could still look at and talk to Harry. He was smiling. Well, sort of.

"How touching… I always value bravery… Yes, boy, your parents were brave… I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight… but your mother needn't have died… she was trying to protect you… Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain!"

"NEVER!"

Harry jumped up and tried to run for the door. Voldemort screamed "SIEZE HIM!" and Quirrell spun around to grab Harry by the wrist. Strangely, both screamed in pain, Harry collapsing to the floor clutching at his scar. Quirrell on the other hand, yanked his hand back. It was smoking, blackened and blistered. Harry struggled up and tried to put some distance between himself and Quirrell.

"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" Voldemort was screaming. Quirrell reached out with both hands and grabbed Harry again, knocking him down and straddling him. Quirrell wrapped his hands around Harry's throat. No one noticed the quiet **Accio** of Quirrell's wand by Staros.

Staros watched as Harry struggled with Quirrell. Both were screaming in pain. Quirrell's hands were smoking, turning black even as he strangled Harry. Harry tried to grab Quirrell's face, but couldn't reach. So he grabbed the man's wrists instead, trying to get him to let go. Quirrell's hands started to smoke even more. Suddenly, Quirrell let go and fell back from Harry who turned to his side and retched, trying to regain his breath.

"Master, I cannot hold him… my hands… my hands…"

Quirrell was looking at his burned hands, holding them close to his body.

"Then kill him with your wand, fool! Be done with it!"

"**Stupefy**!" said Staros, the stunning spell hitting Harry in his side as he struggled to stand. "I think not."

Staros stepped out from behind the pillar, keeping his wand trained on Quirrell.

"Who… who are you?" asked Quirrell.

"Silence, Quirrell! And quit moving around… yes, turn so I can see our guest… ah, a young Slytherin… well done, boy… well done…"

"Voldemort I assume? You're not looking so good, old chap."

"Who are you, boy?" hissed Voldemort. Quirrell started to whimper from his burns.

"A moment would you? Quirrell, be silent. I am talking to your master here. So hard to find good minions these days, isn't it? Anyway, my name is Staros Marcus. I must say, I'm rather disappointed. I expected so much more with all the hype about you, Voldemort."

"You presume too much, boy… You will address me as Lord Voldemort… but first, give Quirrell back his wand so he can do away with Potter…"

"No, I need him alive. Sorry to disappoint, but I have plans that require him to be around. Unfortunately, you are a bit of a wrench in the works."

Voldemort frowned.

"I can make your plans reality… bring me the Stone from Potter's pocket… join me…"

Staros stepped a little closer to Quirrell and Voldemort, keeping his wand pointed at them the whole time.

"Oh? The Sorcerer's Stone? I seriously doubt it's the real one. But we can take a look."

Staros moved around Quirrell towards Harry.

"What is your interest in the Potter boy, Marcus?"

"Shut up, Quirrell! Gods, can't you do anything about him? Anyway, as I said, I have plans, you're in the way. Harry here is a key to them. He will be as stone, I the sea, together we will sweep across Britain and change the magical world."

Staros stooped down to Harry, Voldemort seemed to be confused by his words. Quirrell continued to whimper, his hands looking worse with each passing moment. A light caress of Harry's hair, and Staros smiled slightly.

"Ah, Harry, you sure know how to start a party."

"I tire of this! Bring me the Stone, boy!"

Staros stood up, between Harry and Voldemort.

"Um… no, sorry. There can only be one Dark Lord, and it's going to be me. Bye bye now."

With a swift motion, Staros drew his sword and cut across Quirrell's neck. His annoying whimpers were cut short in a gurgle as he drowned in his own blood. Whatever Voldemort expected, it was obviously not this from the look on his face. As Quirrell died, Voldemort screamed.

A black, ghostly mist ran out of Quirrell's body, swirling into a manlike form before diving towards Staros. Staros assumed a guard position with his sword, the whispers from the blade becoming louder, eager even. Voldemort halted, screeched and rose into the air, flying through the breaks in the ceiling.

Staros looked up at where Voldemort had disappeared. Sheathing his sword, he looked down at Harry, then Quirrell. Whatever Harry had done to Quirrell was accelerating, burning his body to ash.

"Carcerous."

""Aye, Master Staros? You be needin' help wit cleanin dis mess, mebbe?"

"No, I think I'll let Dumbledore do it. Are the other two all right?" Staros asked kneeled back down to Harry. Checking his pockets, Harry did indeed have a large red stone in one. Taking it out, Staros frowned a moment before dropping it and crushing it under his heel.

"Aye, dey be wit de Pomfrey lady."

"Then let's get out of here before we're discovered. This is already a disaster."

"Aye, Master Staros." Carcerous reached out and grasped Staros' hand. With a silent pop, they disappeared form the room and faded back into being in Staros' dorm room. Putting his things away, Staros went to bed, certain that the next day would be just as confusing, at least to everyone else.


	36. Chance upon Chance

The next day being confusing was yet another minor understatement as the rumor mill surrounding one Harry Potter again churned out story after story regarding the activities that landed Harry, Hermione, and Ron in the hospital wing. Depending on who you asked on what day, the story ranged from Ron and Harry getting into a fight over Hermione, Ron and Hermione fighting over Harry (this was a favorite of the Twins), an invasion of Dark Wizards, dementors, inferi, goblins, or Southern Baptists (no one could pin down where THAT came from), Harry fighting off an Egyptian ghost, a very scoffed at attempt by Voldemort to return, or an alien visitor from either outer space or another dimension. The only bit of truth that managed to survive was Ron's epic chess battle, which became more epic with each time Ron told it. Oh, and something about plants, keys, and a giant dog, all very muddled. Hermione refused to comment on the majority of the rumors, but she did try to slap down some of the wilder ones. Her only real leak of information was that Ron's chess battle was 'more or less' accurate. She told everyone that the rest of the tale was not hers to tell.

Rumors persisted but wound down a bit as Harry was still laid up in the hospital wing. Ron had been released after a few hours, as was Hermione, but it was nearing the third day and Harry was still unconscious. Rumors about his current health began to pick up as well with everything from imminent death to turning into a purple wing ding to Harry becoming a vampire ran the circuit.

The only students not spending a large portion of their time wondering about what had happened were the afore mentioned Hermione and Ron, Neville, Staros, Blaise, Daphne and Tracey. While the three Slytherins did question some things, the assurances from Staros that the rumors were nowhere near the truth were accepted for now. Tis, of course, did not stop Daphne from making repeated subtle remarks asking how Staros knew what had happened and just how much more there was to the story.

The day of the end of term feast, Harry was reportedly awake and making progress, obviously not a vampire, and still the same color as he was before. In fact, he looked perfectly normal for someone who had staved off invasions by aliens, goblins, or Baptists. At least, that is what Hermione and Ron told everyone after they were allowed to visit. Staros thought it prudent to wait until everyone else was distracted before making his own way to the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey opened the door after hearing a polite knock to find Staros standing in the hall.

"Good day to you, Madame Pomfrey. I understand that Mr. Potter is alive and well thanks to you."

"Well, the Headmaster had some part in bringing him to me, Mr. Marcus, but yes, he is doing much better. He needs his rest, so if you will excuse me…"

"I only need a moment of his time. I have something of his that I really must return to him. It's a wonder it hasn't been lost with all the goings on."

"I, well… fine, five minutes and no more. Mr. Potter really needs to rest."

She opened the door reluctantly, allowing Staros in. Gesturing towards the screened off area, she again reiterated, "Five minutes," before retreating to her office.

Staros walked over and poked his head through the screen. Seeing Harry looking the other way, he grinned and decided to see if Harry really was back to normal. Quickly pulling back before he was seen, Staros pulled out Harry's cloak and draped it over himself. He then pushed his way past the screen as carefully as possible so as not to alert Harry.

Staros glided up to Harry's bed and picked up the potions tray on the bedside table. He then stacked it onto the glass next to it followed by a spoon, two vials, and some odd kind of ball. He then started to twist the whole stack in a circle, the glass making a grinding sound on the table.

Harry glanced around for a moment, obviously trying to figure out where the noise was coming from before his eyes lay upon the rotating pile of oddities. For just a second, his eyes bulged out and he looked like he was about to scream when a look of disgust passed over his face.

"Peeves! You're not supposed to be in the hospital wing. Get out before I call Madame Pomfrey!"

"Is… not… Peeves… Ooooohhhhooooo…" Staros said trying very hard not to lose it.

"Then who?" Harry asked before he pulled out his wand and started poking with it. He almost nailed Staros in the face when Staros decided enough's enough and backed off. Quickly pulling the cloak back from his head, Staros grinned at Harry.

"Hiya, Harry. Miss me?"

"What? Where did you get an invisibility cloak?"

"From the floor where you dropped it during your enlightening conversation with one late Professor Quirrell. Figured you might want it back."

Staros carefully pulled off the cloak and folded it up before handing it over to Harry. Harry took the cloak in his hands with a look of fear, surprise, and thankfulness on his face.

"You? You were there?"

"Well, for the tail end of things anyway. Didn't Ron or Hermione tell you? I passed them in the chess room on the way. Ron's making THAT out to be something that should make itself into _Hogwarts: A History_ you know. According to him, you'd all be dead if not for his heroics."

"So you know?"

"About? Oh, Drippy the Funny Face Poltergeist? Yeah, saw him. Not a good look, let me tell you. His pictures from the first go round weren't half bad. Of course, they say that looks are the first thing to go in your old age."

Harry didn't know if he should laugh or cry. On the one hand, someone else KNEW the truth. Not just surmised it like Dumbledore, or guessed it like Hermione, but KNEW. On the other hand, he knew the TRUTH. A truth that Dumbledore said should be kept under wraps. A truth about Harry and Voldemort that would just make the Boy-Who-Lived that much bigger and harder to deal with. Staros looked at Harry and sighed.

"Harry, don't worry about it. For now, it's done. I'm not running to the Daily Prophet with a story. I may have to say a few things to my grandfather, but that's family. Maybe the Queen, she might ask. Besides, you have enough to worry about after defeating the inferi, the goblins, the Southern Baptists, and the alien invasion. The truth would just be boring."

"WHAT?" yelled Harry, the bit about the Queen being lost in the thought of him defeating armies of evil creatures.

A stamping of feet announced the return of Madame Pomfrey.

"What's all the noise? I thought I told you, Mr. Potter has to rest, not be screaming at the top of his lungs."

"Sorry, Madame Pomfrey, my fault. I, um, told Harry about some of the new rumors going on about him. Hadn't even gotten to the good ones about him being a vampire or anything…"

"WHAT?" yelled Harry, again. Staros just grinned at him.

"I'll be going now. I've returned what I came to return."

"OUT, be off with you!" said Madame Pomfrey, her hand pointing towards the door. Staros waved to Harry, still in shock, on his way out and then blew Madame Pomfrey a kiss as he closed the door. She just rolled her eyes and shooed him away.

Staros met Hagrid on the way down the hall. Hagrid was severely upset and had sat down on a bench to worry himself.

'Heya, Hagrid!" Staros said.

"Ah, good t'see yeh, Staros. Yeh bin t'see Harry have yeh?"

"Yeah, just got thrown out by the Evil Mistress of the Wing herself."

"Eh? Oh, Madame Pomfrey, right good'un she is. So… is… well, is Harry all right?"

"Yeah, Hagrid, he's fine. Bit shaken, but all his parts are still there. You going to see him? He'd love to hear from you."

"I… I don' know if I should. I was so worried, and I told you all abou' Fluffy, and…"

"Hagrid, just go. Seriously."

Hagrid nodded, still upset, but got up and walked towards the hospital wing door. Staros shook his head and walked on.


	37. Chance Revelation

Staros saw Harry enter the Great Hall for the leaving feast, a misnomer since it was hardly the last meal they would have at Hogwarts since end of term grades wouldn't come out until later that week, but whatever. It wasn't hard to spot him as he was one of the last to enter. He didn't look happy at the décor, seeing as Slytherin was tops on House Points. But Staros wasn't the only one to notice Harry's entrance.

All across the hall, people took notice of the Boy-Who-Lived and for a moment, silence reigned. That moment must have been one of the most painful the shy, quiet Harry had ever endured as the entire student body was focused on him. Then the moment broke and everyone went back to their noisy, not quite as whispered as they thought conversations, many of which were still about the many rumors surrounding the last week's events, but just as many were the normal end of school conversations about grades, dating, friends visiting friends over the summer, or jobs to be sought by those leaving the school. All perfectly normal.

Staros caught Harry's eyes for just a second and nodded to him before Harry went and joined Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. He seemed to try and shrink in between his fellows, afraid of what he would see if he looked around at the others. Considering some people were craning their necks or almost standing to take a last look at the poor boy, Staros thought hiding was probably the best choice for now. Too much attention and people might notice their Hero was only a boy.

A tapping of a glass signaled for silence as Dumbledore stood at his seat.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore began cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were… you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…"

Several students, not just Slytherin, groaned aloud at the thought of next year, especially those who would be entering their fifth or seventh years after seeing this year's crop of stressed and exam ridden psychos with their heads buried in books.

"Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus. In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points. In third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two. Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

Several of the younger Slytherins broke out in cheers. Some were banging their cups on the table in a most unseemly manner. Daphne noted with disgust that the cheering students were mainly those who had little to do with their point gains, namely Draco, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle. 'At least Nott has a reason to be happy about it…' she thought.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore was saying. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The cheering died almost as fast as it arose. Staros smirked at Blaise who smiled back. They both knew the shoe was about to drop and why. Daphne and Tracey simply looked bored with the whole affair, although Tracey couldn't keep her lips from tugging upwards, fighting the urge to smile herself. They had all heard from Staros much of the truth of what happened to Harry and company. While they didn't buy into the hype about the Boy-Who-Lived, they did think Harry was a bit more Gryffindor than was healthy and obviously a magnet for trouble.

"Ahem," Dumbledore continued. "I have a few last-minute points to be dish out. Let me see. Yes… Ronald Weasley…"

Ron looked to be about to choke or suffer a fit by the look on his face. Many would remember that this was probably the only day in his school career that Ron would actually _earn_ points.

"…for the best played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Cheers erupted form the House of the Brave as several students immediately nearest congratulated Ron on the points. Even as far away as they were, the Slytherins could hear Percy saying, "My brother, you know! Youngest of us all! Beat McGonagall's chess set!"

Again the tapping of a glass for attention quieted the hall.

"Second, Ms. Hermione Granger, for the cool use of logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Hermione buried her head in her arms, looking for all the world to try and hide form the congratulations and attention she was getting form the once again cheering Gryffindors. One of the Twins called out, "Brilliant but scary is how Ron tells it!"

More tapping. Staros was wishing he had something to throw at that damned glass Dumbledore was using. The repeated tingy sound was really getting on his nerves.

"Third… to Mr. Harry Potter…" The silence was absolute. "… for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

Gryffindor was now tied with Slytherin. The noise form the students, not just at those two tables, was deafening as people were counting up and shouting answers to questions back and forth. Dumbledore again tapped his glass while Staros ground his teeth. The room slowly quieted down, thankfully before Staros injured himself.

"There are all kinds of courage," Dumbledore was saying. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand in the face of one's enemies, but even more to stand up to one's friends. I therefor award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Daphne just sighed while Tracey shook her head. They had taken quite a bit to pull out of Hermione the part where she had stun, bound, and left Neville on the couch in the Gryffindor common room after he tried to stop the others from sneaking out. They assured the distraught girl that it really had been for Neville's own good as she had likely saved the poor boy from a beating that Ron would likely have given him. And they pointed out, she did apologize and Neville did forgive her, so all was well.

Draco looked like he was going to be sick. Staros and Blaise both tipped their hands to the Twins and Staros held his fingers up in the 'money soon' gesture known world-wide. The Twins looked none too happy about the bet they had just lost, but didn't let that stop them from enjoying the fact that Gryffindor had won the House Cup. Neville was like a rabbit trying to decide where to bolt from all the attention he was being given. Dumbledore's careful planning had assured that everyone was saying Neville won the House Cup, not Harry. A nice political move, if one only the Slytherins, well the actually cunning ones anyway, would understand.

"Which means," Dumbledore drawled, 'we need a change of decoration."

He clapped his hands and just as quickly, the Slytherin greens and silvers changed to Gryffindor red and gold. Professors Snape and McGonagall were shaking hands, though Snape looked like he had swallowed a lemon while she looked like a cat that ate the canary, and then drank the cream before finding a warm sunlit spot to nap and fell asleep.

Everyone enjoyed the feast, one rivaled only by the start of term for variety and quality. A few days later, the exam results for normal classes were in, NEWT and OWL results coming out a bit later as they were graded by the Ministry. Everyone of Harry's year had managed to pass, some by the skin of their teeth. Ron's marks, for example, were only just better than Pansy's. The bigger surprise was that Crabbe and Goyle had both managed to grade just this side of failure. How was anyone's guess.

The same day, end of term notices were being passed around by the Heads of the Houses. For some years, it was the papers for selecting electives the next year, for others just the admonishments about using magic during the summer. Staros smirked at Professor Snape when he opened that one.

"I do believe that this does not apply, Professor, but I shall remember it in case I have visitors who are not of age to my home," Staros said, handing the notice back.

Professor Snape looked down at the notice, then back up to the cocky student in front of him. With a slight twist of his eyebrow, he conveyed all manner of disappointment in Staros' behavior. Staros read the look accurately, but also knew it was true and held his ground. A moment of silent stares and Snape said, "Indeed," before stalking off to the next victim of his ire. Staros wasn't sure, but he thought he'd just passed a test of some sort.

Several days later, two before the train took the first and second generation, or students who lacked any other means to travel, back to London, Staros requested to speak with Dumbledore. Once again mounting the stairs to the Headmaster's office, Staros was again struck with the absurdity of the gargoyle door and weird escalator-like spiral steps, but at least this time he had the password, Butterfinger. Who knew that crazy old wizards craved mundane candies?

Staros stepped into the office, this time wearing robes of a different cut than the last time he'd been. The robes he wore this time were not the formal attire for the Wizengamot, but instead the cloaked robe of the peerage who might attend the Court and had drawn more than a few comments during his walk to the Headmaster's office. Done in a deep blue, his shirt was pressed and stitched with the Marcus coat of arms. Black pants with a deep red stripe down the sides topped a pair of fine black boots. He wore a sleeved very dark blue cloak that most would take for a robe, but with a roped clasp of silver and blue rather than the traditional hook clasp at the shoulder. This allowed for the cloak to be thrown over one arm if needed. The ensemble included a fine dagger at the belt as well. In short, he looked like most people's idea of a prince.

Dumbledore, if he was surprised by this getup, hid it well, merely gesturing for Staros to sit, which he did. He spared only a moment's glance to Carcerous, standing behind his young master in his usual semi-formal outfit.

"To what do I owe the honor of this visit, Mr. Marcus?" Dumbledore asked.

"Please, for this meeting, I must insist on Lord Marcus," Staros said, raising his hand. "I am here in regards to matters above the interests of a student."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but no other indication of his mood was forthcoming. Instead, he shoved some papers that had lay in front of him to one side and settled back in his chair.

"As you will, Lord Marcus. What can this old man do for the Queen this evening?"

"As you may have guessed, or found out otherwise, I am attending Hogwarts as a condition of my assumption of the Marcus family titles here in Britain. As such, I am also under certain obligations to Her Majesty and my family. One of those obligations required that I report the recent events of the third floor to Her Majesty. She sent a reply that I received just this morning. To say She is displeased would most likely understate things a tad."

"How much do you know about the events surrounding Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked with some concern. His mind was racing through the possible consequences of the Queen becoming involved directly in the affairs of magical Britain. Unlike the muggle world, magical Britain was, is and most likely would always be tied to the oaths sworn to the Crown. Oaths bound by magic. Direct rule by the Crown had not been enforced since the Treaty of Separation in 1587 and was even less known since the establishment of the Statue of Secrecy in 1692. Dumbledore wasn't sure the existing regime could deal with their reigning monarch returning to power.

"I know enough to ask this simple question, one I am sure will be of great concern to Her Majesty. Is Voldemort dead or not?" Staros looked Dumbledore directly in the eyes as he asked this.

Dumbledore stared at the young boy before him. So young, with so many things that should not be his concern for many years. And yet, there was a tiredness in the boy's eyes. A sadness that spoke of things that should not be known to the young.

'How much to say? How much do I reveal? Was this boy the other magical signature he'd found in the room?' These thoughts dominated the mind of the Headmaster. With a deep sigh, he made his decisions.

"Tell Her Majesty that we should prepare for war. Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I do believe that Voldemort shall rise again. For now, it seems that whatever providence protected young Harry that sad night in nineteen eighty-one has protected us once again. But evil is elusive. It is crafty. It wears many guises and speaks many promises. He will find a way back."

"I shall inform Her Majesty of your concerns, Headmaster." With this statement, Staros rose from his seat and bid Dumbledore a good night. It seemed that things were going to get horribly complicated after all. Just as Staros was getting ready to close the door, Dumbledore called out.

"Mr. Marcus… Staros, if I may ask, what was it you said in the Mirror of Erised?"

Staros paused. Standing in the doorway, he half turned back to the Headmaster and he said quietly, "I had a dog," before walking out and pulling the door shut behind him.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and thought over the somewhat enigmatic answer. Nothing really seemed right about the boy's reaction that night and this answer until he considered his own answer to Harry. Remembering a pair of woolen socks and how they might relate to a dog, Dumbledore sat in silence as a single tear fell down his cheek.


	38. Last Chance

They were done. The year of brutal schooling over, the students were returning from whence they came. The train ride was surprisingly quiet, even the usual trouble makers and rowdies settling back and just relaxing. For the most part.

In one of the last compartments, Harry sat with Ron and Hermione, occasionally talking about things that had happened during the year. Harry was reluctant to discuss what had occurred after he left the other two and while Hermione was willing to let it lie, Ron seemed anxious for Harry to spill. It was during one of Ron's more subtle questions that Staros knocked and opened the door.

"Heya, Harry! Ron, Hermione," Staros said with a nod to the others. He sat down next to Harry and propped his feet up next to Hermione who looked at him rather pointedly.

"What do you want, snake?" Ron asked rudely. Staros sighed.

"Seriously, Ron. One of these days, this black and white judgment of yours is going to make someone pretty damned ticked. I left the other Slytherins so I could NOT have to listen to this kind of crap. You sound a lot like Draco, and he was getting on my nerves with his whining about his grades. So, to answer your question, what I want is to spend time with people who are not being asses."

Ron's face scrunched up and he looked like he was about to respond when Hermione stepped in.

"You know, Ron, he does have a point. Staros has been nothing but polite to you all year and you still go out of your way to be a prat whenever you see him. It kind of is a lot like Malfoy and Harry, although Harry just tried to ignore Malfoy instead of be polite to him. Maybe you should try that instead, Harry."

Ron looked betrayed at Hermione taking Staros' side, but the thought of Harry being polite to Draco still managed to tweak his mouth almost into a smile for just a moment. Then he remembered he was supposed to be angry. He turned to back to Staros and was opening his mouth when Harry threw in.

"Ron, please. It's the end of term. We're going home. I'd like to say I'm happy, but I have to go back to the Dursleys. So a little less stress before I get locked up for the summer would be great. You don't have to like him, or even talk to him, but please, just leave the arguments for another time. You can hit Malfoy if he shows up."

"Oh, that won't happen," said Staros. "Seems Drakey-poo ran into a couple of doors after he irritated a few seventh years with his complaints. Their scores for their NEWTs weren't as high as expected and they didn't take well to his whining about our first year's grades like they were life and death."

Ron did laugh a bit at this, but quickly snuffed it and resumed looking offended at something. Or trying to as the corners of his mouth twitched occasionally. But he did try and keep faced away from Staros who smirked at him. Hermione 'accidentally' bumped Staros' feet off the seat which almost caused him to fall off his own. Ron still tried to stifle his laugh and keep from grinning, resolutely keeping his head turned away and refusing to speak.

"Hermione, heard you pissed off the 'Claws this year. Made top grades all around?" asked Staros.

Hermione blushed a bit, but pulled her grade report out and handed it over. Staros looked it over and whistled.

"Damn girl! How the heck did you manage a hundred and thirty percent? And on transfiguration? Jeez, there's not a score on here under perfect. That's it, the aliens have landed. She's gotta be an android or a clone or… maybe… she's a Dalek in disguise?" Staros said remembering a British TV show.

Harry burst out laughing. Ron looked confused. Hermione huffed and took back her card. Staros just smiled at her.

"Seriously though, great job, Hermione," Staros said after a moment. "Oh, and thanks for the help through the year. Couldn't have remembered half this stuff without you. Right guys?"

Harry nodded and said, "Thanks, Hermione."

Ron looked embarrassed but said thanks as well. Hermione blushed and mumbled something that could have been a 'Your Welcome.'

The rest of the train ride passed in small talk and long silences. Harry even fell asleep a couple times. No sign of Draco ever darkened the door nor did anyone else come by to bug anyone, mostly Harry. Staros was about to nod off himself when the train pulled into King's Cross. Hermione was engrossed in another book. It looked like the third year potions book if Staros saw the title right. Shaking his head, he nudged her with his foot before shaking Harry awake. Everyone took notice that they had arrived as the train braked and slowed into the terminal.

Chaos ensued. If loading the train was bad, what with the parents saying tearful goodbyes and siblings wanting to go, and the occasional person who wanted to stay, then the sudden rush to leave was just insane. Loading was leisure time compared to everyone trying to grab their trunks and get off at the same time. Prefects tried to keep order but as most were not in school robes anymore, they were just ignored for the most part.

Staros waited with the others until most of the rush was gone. Ron had wanted to run out with everyone else, but one look out into the halls had convinced him that waiting and playing a quick game of exploding snap was a better idea. That and nearly being hit by a trunk when he stuck his head out.

When they finally decided it was safe to venture into the train corridors, they all grabbed their trunks, save Staros who had Carcerous fetch his earlier, and headed out. The loading area was still terribly busy with a few of the second and later generation students still hanging about saying goodbyes or waiting for parents to come pick them up. Mostly it was first and second generation students bustling about while waiting their turn to move through the barrier which was guarded by two old men. The two men kept the students moving through the wall at a relatively steady, but staggered, sets of twos and threes, most likely to keep from revealing the entrance's existence by having a hundred kids pouring out of it suddenly.

As the group made their way out to the 'real' world, there were several people who stopped Harry to say thank you, wish him well, promise to write, and even one horribly embarrassing marriage proposal by a witch easily twice his age. Fortunately, the guards took care of her before things got too weird.

Ron's family was waiting off to one side and the group saw them first so naturally moved that way. Introductions were made with Mrs. Molly Weasley being impressed with how polite Staros was, if a bit leery of his house affiliation, although the Twins may have caused her to be more wary than the Slytherin bit as anyone the Twins liked was bound to be trouble. Having dealt with things like this his whole life, Staros ignored it. She did seem mildly concerned with Staros being alone and not having a family picking him up which Staros thought was nice.

After leaving the Weasleys, they found Hermione's parents waiting. Again, introductions were made and Staros found them rather pleasant people. Small talk was kept short as the Grangers were taking an extended lunch from their practice to pick up their daughter and had to hurry on.

Finally emerging from the train station, Harry stopped suddenly upon noticing a rather large, surly looking man stalking towards them. Staros sized the fellow up and wondered just how he was managing to walk so fast. The guy weighed in at four hundred pounds, easy. He also looked very, very unhappy as did Harry.

"Ready then?" asked the large man when he stopped in front of them.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied quietly, picking up his trunk and following the man as he turned sharply and wasted no time walking towards a car in which sat a rather thin woman.

Staros followed along, wondering at the lack of basic manners that usually included at the least, introductions. It wasn't until they reached the car that the man noticed Staros tagging along.

"Here now," the man started, "just where do you think you're going, boy?"

Staros raised an eyebrow at the man.

"Since you asked, oh so politely, I am walking in the same direction as you. Since the parking area is where my car will be waiting, I see no reason to, say, walk around the station before heading out. And since I wished to have a final word with Harry here, it was rather convenient that you didn't park on the roof now wasn't it?" Staros replied, his voice dripping sarcasm.

Harry looked terrified. He hurriedly put his trunk into the boot of the car and got in, watching his friend stand in front of Vernon like David and Goliath but not wanting to make things worse by interrupting.

"Do you have any idea who you're speaking to, boy?"

"Obviously not, since you failed to introduce yourself. I'll go first. I am Lord Staros Aniken Marcus, Earl of Moneda and Lord of Foula, heir apparent of the Marcus Family line, and Knight of the Garter."

Vernon's eyes bugged out for a moment as Staros rattled off his titles. Then he started to swell up and turn a bit purple as he obviously didn't believe a word of it.

"Boy, I'll have none of your nonsense!" the man started to yell, attracting the attention of a nearby constable. Said constable wandered over to see if there was something wrong. As the constable was stepping up to the pair, a man in a black suit with dark glasses and an obvious radio earpiece walked around the corner of the building, caught sight of the group and made his own way over, speaking briefly into his shoulder.

"Is there a problem here?" asked the constable.

"This boy's spouting off a bunch of hogwash and folderol! I want him removed and his parents notified about the lies he's going on about immediately!" Vernon shouted, attracting more attention and causing the man in the suit to quicken his pace.

"What's he on about, son?" asked the constable to Staros.

Before Staros could answer, the man in the suit arrived at the group.

"Have located package. Local L E on site. Will advise," he was saying into a visible microphone on his lapel. "What seems to be the problem constable?"

"Don't rightly know as yet. Who might you be?"

"Agent Wolkins, SS," the man said, pulling a small wallet out and handing it to the constable. The constable flipped it open, checked what was inside, looked up at the man in the suit, and back down at the wallet again before flipping it closed and handing it back.

"And what might Her Majesty's interests be here at King's Cross if I'm allowed to ask, agent?"

"Our young lord here. Security detail to escort him. Thank you for your assistance, we'll take it from here."

The constable nodded and left the immediate area, but didn't stray too far in case his help was required.

"Lord Marcus, the car is this way, if you please," Agent Wolkins said.

"Now see here!" Vernon started.

"Sir, I suggest you lower your voice and back away from Lord Marcus. I am already well within rights to have you detained."

"No need for that, Wolkins," interrupted Staros. "I only need a brief word with Harry here and we'll be going."

Staros stepped up to the car window where Harry had been watching in fear and confusion for the last several minutes. He pulled a couple of books out of his inner coat pocket and handed them to Harry. Harry glanced down at the titles, a Debrett's _Peerage and Baronetage_ and _Manners for Men_.

"I need you to read these, Harry. Study them. Practice them. Wouldn't do to have you cause a fuss if I need to introduce you to the Queen if you can't tell a salad fork from a soup spoon, eh?"

"Um, ok," was Harry's very confused reply. He just didn't see that he was ever, not ever, going to be introduced to the Queen, but it probably couldn't hurt to learn better manners. Then Staros leaned close.

"By the way, you don't need to get worked up about Quirrell," Staros said very quietly so only Harry could hear. Harry stared at him in shock. "You didn't kill him. I did."

With that, Staros turned and left with his escort, leaving a very confused Harry and Vernon to stare.


	39. Finale For Now

"And that, Ms. Skeeter, is all the time we have for now," Staros said, rising from his chair.

"What? No! We have so much more to cover! What about the rest of the years in school? What about the Grandshire incident? We haven't even touched on the ICW Reunification Pact!"

Staros chuckled at the woman.

"Ms. Skeeter, you have already been here for nearly two days. Time in this room flows a little differently, but not so much so to cause health problems unless we spend too long in here. I, for one, would like a decent meal and some sleep. Seeing as I am the old man, I have ever right to kick the young whipper-snapper out on her butt and shuffle her off to her own bed. Write your story beginnings, young lady, and come back in two weeks. We'll continue then."

Pricilla realized that she couldn't push too hard or the whole deal would go flop in her lap. Not to mention what a Dark, evil overlord of Great Britain might do to her personally if she irritated him enough. He didn't _look_ like he'd slowly skin her and then give her to a bunch of blind psychopaths, but there were far too many rumors for some of them to _not_ be true.

Putting up the image of the grumbling reporter, she realized she did have enough to start her expose with so she packed up her recorder and papers, shoved the book into her bag to try and peer at later, and stood up herself. Brushing he clothes down, she wondered about the time difference he mentioned. If true, her editor might be getting worried about her. Her stomach also injected its opinion by growling at this point. Blushing, she allowed the old man to lead her out of the room.

"Carcerous!" Staros called. The elf popped up next to them. "Please take Ms. Skeeter to the gate. She'll be coming back in a couple weeks for the next interview."

The elf bowed and gestured for Pricilla to follow him. He led her back out the same hallways she had come in before, furiously thinking about how to write up her story. Questions she hadn't the chance to ask kept rattling around with headline ideas as she walked. Was Voldemort really possessing Quirrell? What about the story that Potter had killed him? How much did Dumbledore know right from the start? How far was the Queen involved?

Pricilla sighed to herself as she was led out the front door. These questions and so much more would have to wait. She had a story to write!

**Author's Note:** I normally hate author notes as they generally falsely inflate the word count, but I felt I needed one here. This ends book one. I had to re-purchase Chamber of Secrets as mine had gotten misplaced so the delay in additional writing is due to that and my own procrastination. Do not worry readers! I am finishing this storyline even if it kills me, tears out my heart, and feeds my soul to dementors and squirrels!


End file.
